


Ser Goldenpaws and the Wench

by LibKat



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Lady and the Tramp (1955) Fusion, Dog!Brienne, Dog!Cersei, Dog!Jaime, Dog!Podrick, Dog!Selmy, Dog!Tyrion, F/M, Implied cruelty to animals, It's Ramsay after all, JB Week 2018, Jaime/Brienne Appreciation Week 2018, Not for fans of Catelyn Stark, Ramsay is His Own Warning, Threats of Rape/Non-Con, Threats of Violence, Yes I made them Golden Retrievers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-01
Updated: 2018-11-03
Packaged: 2019-07-20 22:15:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 25,445
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16146650
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LibKat/pseuds/LibKat
Summary: It's the Lady and the Tramp AU that nobody wanted.





	1. Hear Me Bark (Maiden)

**Author's Note:**

> This is my 2018 JB Appreciation Week fic. The theme this year is the Seven Gods. I am stretching that theme to the breaking point to make this fit. 
> 
> I’m setting this in the approximate time period of Lady and the Tramp, early 20th century. But I’ve attached AKC awards to Dog!Jaime that didn’t exist then. I wanted him to have a reason to be so vain, other than his general fabulosity.
> 
> Disclaimer: A Song of Ice and Fire, Game of Thrones, Lady and the Tramp and these characters belong to a whole bunch of people who are not me. I will return them undamaged when I am finished playing with them.

 

Chapter One

Hear Me Bark! (Maiden)

 

It had been an excellent walkies!

The front door opened and he bounded through, pulling on the leash attached to his collar.  He had to get back to his primary human to make sure that she had not missed him too terribly in the eternity he was gone. 

It was part of his social obligation as the leading light of the neighborhood to take his secondary human on an inspection of all the trees and the fire hydrants for signs of intruders.  He was also obliged to check in with his friends who were enjoying a post supper romp in their yards or taking their own humans out for an airing.  But once that business and _his business_ were taken care of, he had been anxious to return to his sweet smelling human with the soft fore paws to pet his silky coat and ask him “Who’s a good boy?”

He’s a good boy, of course.

His secondary human, GrumpyDear, had spent a long time standing around at the park entrance talking to the man who smelled like chemicals with something nasty underneath.  But humans often couldn’t help what they smelled like to his superior senses and that man usually had a liver treat to share while he expressed his admiration.

And what was not to be admired?  He was, after all, Champion Ser Goldenpaws Kingsguard of Casterly Kennels, National Golden Retriever Best of Breed, Canine Good Citizen and Companion Dog Excellent.

He still thought the judge had been unfair at the last obedience trial and his human should have been awarded the Utility Dog title for them to wear proudly.  Selmy and Tyrion both assured him it was all politics.

During the interminable time that GrumpyDear had talked to the smelly man with the rather ratty face, he had ignored so many squirrels just begging to be chased that the no account judge with the silly little beard should have appeared and given the title that he had earned for his human.

Perhaps realizing that they had left LittleBird alone too long, GrumpyDear had hurried them back home, preventing him from reading the daily news on the trees on the opposite side of the street. 

“You were gone a long time.” Called the sweet voice from the big front room.

“Just to the park and back.  Would have been home sooner if somebody didn’t insist on smelling every bloody tree on Sycamore Street.”

“Oh yes, you don’t enjoy a single minute.  Poor, put upon, grumpy dear.”

GrumpyDear laughed.  The walkies ritual complete, GrumpyDear removed the leash from his handsome red and gold collar and rubbed him behind the ears.

“Longer walk tomorrow night, Jaime.  Now go on.”

GrumpyDear made it to LittleBird’s side more quickly due to his ridiculously long back legs.  Ser Goldenpaws waited patiently for LittleBird’s attention while the two humans mashed their faces together and made lapping noises like they were drinking water out of a proper bowl instead of those silly, fragile things humans used.  Well, he was as patient as he could be and only nudged GrumpyDear’s back legs a couple times.

Finally GrumpyDear completed their strange human ritual by leaning over to place his face against LittleBird’s very swollen middle to whisper “Hello in there.  It’s Papa.  Be good to your mama and don’t kick too much.”

Ser Goldenpaws didn’t understand why LittleBird didn’t eat some grass to get rid of the upset that was bloating her belly.

Now it was Ser Goldenpaws’ turn.

LittleBird remained in half down position on the divan with her feet propped up on a pillow, just as she had for many turns of dark and light.  Every little while she would press her fore paws to her back, then rub her own belly and pronounce it was time for a rest.  Sometimes GrumpyDear would lead her to the divan himself, take off the silly coverings humans wore on their back paws and rub while LittleBird made happy noises.

Before that could happen, Ser Goldenpaws laid his head where LittleBird’s lap used to be.  Her gentle human forepaws caressed the sides of his head as she looked him in the eyes.

“Were you a good boy, Ser Goldenpaws?  Were you?”

He made a gentle woof to assure her that he was.

Because she called him by his proper name, LittleBird remained his primary human, even though he spent more time with GrumpyDear since she developed her belly bloat.  Even his friends in the neighborhood has started using his call name, “Jaime”, the way GrumpyDear did.  They all claimed Ser Goldenpaws was too much of a mouthful.

“Ran into that strange Qyburn fellow in the park.  Can’t think why he spends so much time there in the evening without a dog of his own.”

“He didn’t offer to buy Ser Goldenpaws again, did he?” LittleBird asked.

“Not this time.  He did ask if we’d consider breeding him if he found a proper bitch to purchase.”  GrumpyDear settled in his big chair while Ser Goldenpaws settled on the carpet next to the divan.  LittleBird would only to have stretch her foreleg a bit to be able to scratch his ears.

“Oh, he’s much too young for that!”

“He’s nearly two years old now, Little Bird.  Your baby has to grow up sometime.  You’ll have a new baby soon to mother.”  There was a soft look in GrumpyDear’s eyes that had only begun to appear in the days of the bloat.  Then he shook his head and grinned.

“And maybe if he gets a leg over, he’ll calm down a bit.  Did wonders for me, didn’t it?”

“Sandor!” LittleBird squeaked GrumpyDear’s call name.

“Don’t act so shocked.  I seem to remember somebody enjoying a bit of doggy style.  She looked a lot like you.”  GrumpyDear laughed.

Ser Goldenpaws tuned out the voices of his two humans as they continued to tease one another.  Whenever they did this it led to more mashing their faces together, then they’d go upstairs to the big room and close the door so he couldn’t get to his favored sleeping place on the rug next to the bed.  Ser Goldenpaws would have to settle for the comfortable, but not companionable bed next to the big warm thing in the kitchen that made the human food.

He thought about what GrumpyDear had said.  He liked _lifting_ his leg.  It was always such a relief when he could do that for his business.  He wondered if getting his leg _over_ would be that kind of relief too.

But what would his leg be going over?

***

It was one of the days when GrumpyDear went very early to his special shed in Ser Goldenpaws’ backyard.  The shed had many interesting smells that Ser Goldenpaws liked to investigate, but GrumpyDear was making the awful racket with the high pitched noises that hurt Ser Goldenpaws’ sensitive ears, so he was staying in the kitchen and letting LittleBird keep him company.

LittleBird had just made herself one of the small bowls of hot water and leaves that she liked when she suddenly made a loud groaning sound and wrapped her forelegs around her very large belly.  She started to sink to the ground and Ser Goldenpaws ran to her side to support her as she slowly sat on the floor.  He knew that humans didn’t sit on the floor very often or make loud groaning sounds or, oh dear, accidentally do their business in the kitchen.

LittleBird gripped his fur very tightly for a moment.  Ser Goldenpaws whimper of discomfort was lost in LittleBird’s moan.

LittleBird leaned on him for a moment while she panted.  Humans didn’t pant very often either.  Between her panting, LittleBird whispered.

“Jaime, can you go get Sandor for me?  Go get him now, boy.”

It must be very bad for LittleBird to use both his and GrumpyDear’s call names at the same time.  Ser Goldenpaws ran out the little door that was specially for him and bounded across his backyard to GrumpyDear’s shed. 

One of the loud noises was coming from inside.  Ser Goldenpaws launched himself at the door, barking and scrabbling his nails against it to gain GrumpyDear’s attention.  When that didn’t work, he backed up a few steps and charged the door, making it shake, but not opening it.

The loud noise from the inside stopped. 

“Oh, fucking hells!”  Ser Goldenpaws heard one of the human sounds that made LittleBird use the bad dog voice to GrumpyDear.

The door was wrenched open.  “I don’t have time to play, Jaime.  I trained you better than this.  I have work to do.  I need money to buy you your special food and all your toys.”

Well, really, as though as good a boy as Ser Goldenpaws didn’t deserve those things!

But never mind, he was on a mission.  LittleBird needed help. 

Ser Goldenpaws jumped and barked and ran partway back to the house.  GrumpyDear just stood there looking at him with a silly expression on his face.

Ser Goldenpaws rushed back, took GrumpyDear’s pant leg in his teeth and pulled.  That seemed to get through to him.

“Is it Sansa, boy? Oh, no, it’s Old Nan’s marketing day.  She’s all alone in the house!”

GrumpyDear took off at a run.  Ser Goldenpaws was barely able to keep up.  They entered the kitchen together and both slid to a halt where LittleBird was still sitting on the floor.

“Took you long enough!” She said in the bad dog voice.  Then she moaned and wrapped her forelegs tighter around her belly.  “The baby’s coming.  It hurts, Sandor, it hurts.” She whimpered

GrumpyDear knelt down and took LittleBird in a gentle grip.  Then he lifted her off the floor high up into the air.  Ser Goldenpaws knew GrumpyDear was strong, but that was a feat that would have boggled even the mightiest mastiff.  GrumpyDear turned and ran upstairs with LittleBird wrapped in his forelegs and Ser Goldenpaws right on his heels.

GrumpyDear set LittleBird down on the big bed in the room that Ser Goldenpaws liked to sleep in.  

“I have to go call the maester, Sansa.  I won’t be more than a minute. Jaime will stay with you.”  He made a gesture to Ser Goldenpaws that could not mean what he thought it meant.

Being on the bed was forbidden.  Ever since he was a pup, that was the one rule he couldn’t find a way around.

“Up, boy.  It’s alright this one time.  Stay with your mistress.  She needs you.”

Jaime leapt onto the bed and laid immediately down next to LittleBird.  Her forelegs came around his neck and she buried her face in his luxurious golden fur.

GrumpyDear ran from the room and noisily pelted down the stairs.  As Ser Goldenpaws comforted his human with nuzzles and licks of her, ewwww, sweaty face, he heard the cranking of the ringing machine and then GrumpyDear shouted into it.

“I need Maester Luwin.  Right away.  The little bird is having the baby right now.” 

Ser Goldenpaws superior ears heard the back door open and close.  OldNan’s voice rang out.  “The baby?  The baby is coming now?  I just stepped out for a minute and the baby is coming.”

Two sets of footsteps hurried up the stairs.

“I called.”  GrumpyDear stated the obvious.

“Oh sweetling, it’s much too early for you to take to your bed.  Let’s get you up and into a nice clean nightie.”  OldNan cooed to LittleBird.

“She’s having the baby.  She needs to be in bed.”  GrumpyDear said firmly.

“And how many babies have you had, misterman?”  OldNan sassed back.  “You go back downstairs and call the maester again.  Tell him who you are this time so he knows where to come.  Then put the water on to boil and bring up some fresh linen for the bed.” 

Ser Goldenpaws could feel LittleBird laughing against his neck. 

OldNan continued.  “And you, my fine fellow, off the bed.  Go downstairs with your master and keep an eye out for the maester’s motor carriage.”  OldNan looked at them a moment, waiting.  “Well, off with you now.  You have things to do and so do we.”

As she shut the door behind them, Ser Goldenpaws heard OldNan declare.  “Males!  Totally useless.  Doesn’t matter what manner of critter they are.”

***

Light was just beginning to turn to dark when Ser Goldenpaws was summoned upstairs to the big room with the bed and his humans.  He and GrumpyDear had paced around the house after the man who wore the chain collar came.  Then they had paced some more.  Finally, when LittleBird was yelling sounds that would call for the bad dog voice from anyone else, GrumpyDear finally muttered “Fuck this!” and charged back up the stairs.  Ser Goldenpaws had followed right along with him.

The man with the chain had let GrumpyDear stay with LittleBird, but drew the line at “the family pets.”  So Ser Goldenpaws had retreated to the kitchen and worried over whether his humans would be all right.  He worried so hard that he wore himself out and fell asleep.

Ser Goldenpaws entered the room with the bed a bit sheepishly.  Something big had happened to his humans and he had slept right through it.  GrumpyDear was as happy and smiley as Ser Goldenpaws had ever seen him.  LittleBird was sitting up in the bed with a bundle in her arms.  OldNan had water leaking from her face.

“Oh, how I wish your mother had gotten here in time, Sansa.  And your dear father, he’d be so proud and happy today.”

A little bit of water leaked from LittleBird as well.  But she was smiling at the bundle, at GrumpyDear, at everyone.

Ser Goldenpaws gave a few sniffs.  There was a new smell in the room.  He wasn’t sure he liked it.  He followed his nose over to the bed.  GrumpyDear was sitting on the side and his face was leaking too!  He reached a forepaw and patted the edge.

“Just your front legs, Jaime.  Up, boy.  You need to see this little jewel.”

LittleBird tilted the bundle in his direction.  “This is Edie, Ser Goldenpaws.  You’re going to be her very best friend in the whole world.”

Ser Goldenpaws sniffed and then couldn’t stop his tail from making great sweeping wags.  A maiden pup had come to love him and be one of his humans.

 


	2. Off to Work We Go (Smith)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A street dog has to work hard to stay honorable.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a lot darker than I meant it to be. I couldn't make the jaunty Tramp persona work for Brienne and it got more serious the more I wrote.

 Chapter Two

Off To Work We Go (Smith)

The early noises of the men who worked the ships woke her in her hidey hole.  She uncurled her body and stretched luxuriously, her front and back paws reaching all the way across her snug den.

_She’s huge!  Much too big for a Golden!_

She shook away her memory of the shrill voice from the before time and focused on the now time. 

She’d been fortunate all those months ago to find that the gaps between all these boxes led to a safe place for her to rest.  These crates never seemed to move off the wharf and She knew the several secret paths to her cozy den like the back of her paw.  She was a hard working dog and needed to sleep soundly without worrying about the other street dogs invading her home.

She wriggled her way out into the still-dark morning.  The seasons were turning and the sun was coming up later and later.  She didn’t like having to begin her day before the dawn, but work didn’t wait on her preferences.

She gave a massive shake and the slightly wavy fur of her top coat settled into some semblance of order.  She would need to find some clean water to bathe in soon.  Humans didn’t look kindly on dogs that smelled bad.  They didn’t put them to work and give them food to pay for it.

She’d been well fed yesterday.  She’d pulled the little cart while the dairy maid went on her rounds.  The girl had shared her breakfast of bacon and bread with “Goldie” as they walked and the child liked to scratch her behind her ears or hug her around her neck whenever they took a rest.  She let the little girl have her way and suffered it all patiently, knowing the rewards would equal the indignity.  When She brought the cart and the girl back safe and sound, the dairy man had given her a bowl with milk that hadn’t quite turned sour and a good sized chunk of hard cheese for her labors.

That had left her time to help with hauling wood for the forge at the blacksmith’s.  There the handsome young apprentice had given “Lommie” a generous slice Shepard’s Pie for her afternoon’s wages.  And She had gone to sleep with her belly full, safe for another night.

Today was delivery day at the bakery.  The baker boy had fashioned a rope into a harness for the sled so She could pull the heavy sacks of flour from the wagon into the storeroom.  It rubbed away some of the fur on her chest and belly, but the pay was worth it.  “Cupcake” had been helping the boy with his heavy work almost as long as She had been a street dog. 

The baker boy could always be counted on to give “Cupcake” a fine breakfast of eggs and day old pastries.  Next on her rounds would be the butcher’s little son, who liked to have her company as he made his deliveries to the restaurants and hotels of TownCenter.  Very few of the other street dogs would dare to chase him or try to upset the delivery cart and make off with the delectable smelling meats if She was acting as his escort.

Of course on butcher’s day, She had to be wary coming back to her hidey hole for her sleep.  The gang of cowardly curs who thought they owned this part of TownCenter sometimes tried to punish her for guarding the butcher’s boy.  But the risk was worth it.  The butcher would give “Bruiser” the nice, juicy scraps that he hadn’t used for sausage and sometimes a delicious bone for her to store up against the needful time.

If She received a bone today, She would have to take it to her secret spot in the woods.  She’d been burying food there for weeks and she still had very little saved.  It was difficult for an honest, working street dog to put something by for the needful time.

To get to her secret spot, She had to sneak her way out of TownCenter, the territory of the street dogs, skirt past the fancy houses where the pets lived and the dog catchers roamed to keep out the rabble.  It was a long and tiring trip and She’d have to turn right around and hurry back to sleep and be ready to work in the morning.  If she was caught out past dark she would have to contend with the curs and their nightly roaming, fighting other gangs, turning over garbage cans, bullying smaller dogs and hunting for females in their needful time. 

Her needful time was coming again soon.  She could feel it.  Another female street dog had explained it to her when She first found herself on her own.  Pia had told her there was nothing to be done but let it happen.   And then have litter after litter until your body was worn out.  But She wouldn’t let that happen to her, no ser.  She was smart and she was fast and she was strong, stronger than the male street dogs who used the females and then left them with pups they could not feed. 

There had to be some greater advantage to her over muscled body and too long legs.

She had retreated to the woods when she felt her first needful time starting, back when the trees were blossoming and the air was turning warm.  And She waited there in her secret spot until it passed, no matter how hungry or lonely she got.  She stayed hidden in the first safe place she had found after she lost all her safety.

But she didn’t think about those times before she was a street dog, when she had only one name and one human she wanted to please.

You couldn’t trust the humans.  That was the street dog’s creed.

Most of the humans tried to run her off when she came to their doors looking for work.  They shook brooms at her and threw stones.  Their human pups tried to ride her or to tie cans to her tail.

A few of them were fair to her and paid her a good wage for good work. 

The kindly man who ran the fish stall on the wharf had even tried to tempt “Bonnie” to come home with him a few times when She first became a street dog.  He said he had seven boys at home who needed a strong, sturdy, good girl like her to love. 

But She wasn’t “Bonnie” and She didn’t deserve a home. 

If She went with him, too soon those sons would see She wasn’t fit to be a pet, with her ugly face and her huge, clumsy body that knocked things over and her eyes that weren’t the right color.  She stopped going by the fish stall and tried to forget the twinkle in the kindly man’s eyes.

She gave herself another shake.  Remembering didn’t put food in her belly.  She needed to get her paws moving if She was going to make it to the bakery on time.

She trotted down the wharf, carefully keeping out of the way of the stevedores.  It only took one kick in the side by their big hobnailed boots to learn that they didn’t take kindly to anything that slowed down unloading the great ships that came into the lannis port.

Once She was reached the crowded streets, She cut through the first of the many alleyways that made up the shortest route to the back door of the bakery.  There She could catch the baker boy but go unnoticed by the grown human who sold their goods in the front of the store.

“Well, well, well, look who it is, fellas. It’s the Beauty herself, come to grace us with her presence.”  A voice called from behind one of the garbage cans that lined the alley.

“Where you off to, Beast?  Who wants to see your ugly mug first thing in the morning?” The red furred mutt who claimed to be part Setter walked into her path and planted himself.

She curled her lip at Red with a low growl and he backed out of her way to the hoots of his pals.  She walked on trying to ignore their jeers.  It was only more names.  She had many of them now and none of them meant anything to her.

A lanky, brown mutt came up beside her and tried to keep pace with his shorter legs.  “Why you gotta be like this, Blue Eyes?  We had some fun together back in the old days, before you got so grown up and serious.  If you help us out, let us take down that meat wagon today, you could be livin’ pretty with us.”

“She ain’t never gonna live ‘pretty’, Hyle.  Just look at her.”  Mullen the mutt scoffed.

“Ignore the boys, Blue Eyes.  You hook back up with us again and you won’t have to keep workin’ these crappy jobs and beggin’ the humans for their scraps.  We take care of our own.”

She whirled and snapped her jaws just short of his peaked ear.  “I know how you’d take care of me, Hyle.  I remember.  I remember you lot leaving poor Pia with that last litter of pups to feed and the dog catcher got her.  I remember you terrorizing poor little Podrick because it amused you.  I remember you being nice to me just so I would fight the mummer gang for the territory near the train station.  That big mutt could have killed me and you lot just ran off and left me there.”

“Still thinkin’ like a pet, ain’t you, Blue Eyes.  It’s survival of the fittest out here.  Dog eat dog.  When you gonna learn that?”

“I learned.  You don’t have anymore lessons to teach me, Hyle.  And next time you try, this dog will eat real well.”  She shifted her powerful shoulders and raised her head to her full height.  Hyle barely came up to her withers.  He backed away from her, fast.

She trotted to the end of the alley.  As she stepped out into the street Red called out behind her.

“Your day’s coming, Beauty.  One day you won’t be able to run fast enough.”

That’s what She was afraid of.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, in my fics there is a high probability that Davos will occur as a kindly supporting character. Such is the power of beardy cuddliness.


	3. Not Much Light, But Plenty of Hot Air (Crone)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ser Goldenpaws wonderful home is disrupted by a visitor.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: Catelyn Stark is not my favorite character.

 Chapter Three

Not Much Light But Plenty of Hot Air (Crone)

 

There had only been a few lights to darks since MaidenPup arrived.  So far she hadn’t been much of a friend to Ser Goldenpaws.  She made strange noises.  She smelled very sweet some of the time and very bad at other times.  LittleBird was completely involved in taking care of MaidenPup and GrumpyDear was left to see to the most basic necessities of Ser Goldenpaws’ life: food, walkies and business.  He had not had a ball thrown for him or a good tussle over a squeaky toy for soooo very long.

Sometimes LittleBird called him over to the dangerously unsteady chair that could pinch the tail of an unwary dog.  She liked to settle in it while she performed strange human rituals with MaidenPup.  Ser Goldenpaws learned quickly not to stand behind LittleBird when she lifted MaidenPup to her withers and patted her on the back.  Ser Goldenpaws had required an emergency bath the one time he had done that. 

But he hadn’t seen MaidenPup eat any grass!

LittleBird kept assuring GrumpyDear that things would get easier once “Mother” arrived.  GrumpyDear smiled his strained, not-real smile.  Then he would grumble in a low voice that only Ser Goldenpaws could hear that “TheGorgon” hadn’t made anything better since she gave birth to LittleBird.

Ser Goldenpaws hadn’t met TheGorgon yet.  She had not been to visit since his humans had fetched him to his home.  He hoped she would be kind and soft like LittleBird.  No matter what, he was sure she would love him.  Everybody loved Ser Goldenpaws Kingsguard of Casterly Kennels.

***

Ser Goldenpaws paced restlessly by the front door waiting for GrumpyDear to arrive home with TheGorgon.  LittleBird was upstairs giving MaidenPup a bath since MaidenPup had gotten very smelly just after GrumpyDear had left.  He could hear LittleBird cooing to MaidenPup about being all nice and clean for Grandmama.  He wished someone had thought to make him all nice and clean.  He’d barely been touched with a brush since the disastrous upchuck of two darks ago.  But Ser Goldenpaws did his best to present the picture of Golden Retriever nobility that he knew he was.

As the door opened he struck the pose that brought ooohs and aaaahs from the audience at the dog shows.  TheGorgon swept in, all swirling skirts and long, red hair.

“Sansa?  Sansa, darling, where are you?  Where’s my granddaughter?”  Without even a glance at the perfection of his conformation, TheGorgon swept past Ser Goldenpaws straight up the stairs to the big room with the bed.

GrumpyDear and the wagon driver man were hauling big boxy things into the front hall of his house.  GrumpyDear dropped the first one with a thud that shook the floor beneath Ser Goldenpaws’ golden paws.

The wagon driver man gave GrumpyDear a look full of sympathy as he set down the big box he was carrying.

“Never good news when the mother-in-law brings this much luggage, is it, Sandor?”

“No, indeed, Thoros.  But if she makes my little bird happy and helps us cope with our littler bird, well, what’s a fella to do?”  GrumpyDear shrugged his shoulders as he pulled out some of the paper pieces that the humans thought were so important.

“When it gets to be too much for you, head on down to the pub.  I’ll stand ya to a pint and a game of darts.”

“You know I don’t drink any more.”  GrumpyDear said with a frown.

“Then I’ll buy you a sarsaparilla before the darts.  If you’re sober, you might even beat me.”  The wagon driver man laughed.

GrumpyDear slapped him on the back.  “I could beat you blind drunk and blind _folded_ any day of the week.  You’re just too old to remember.”

The wagon driver man laughed some more as he walked out the door. 

GrumpyDear shook his head and lost his smile as he looked at the … luggage, they called it. 

“Best get to work carting this up the stairs.  I’ll warn you now, Jaime, there may be tough times ahead for the males in this family.”

***

The times had been tough indeed. 

Ser Goldenpaws has bounded up the stairs to the big room with the bed, leaving GrumpyDear to haul all the … luggage to the smaller room with the smaller bed across the hallway from where he and LittleBird and GrumpyDear and MaidenPup slept.  Ser Goldenpaws wanted to give TheGorgon another chance to notice and admire him.  TheGorgon was seated on the bed holding MaidenPup and talking a mile a minute to LittleBird.

“She looks just like you when you were born.  All Tully, thank goodness.  I was dreading that she might look like …”

“Mother!”  LittleBird said in the bad dog voice.  “She’s got Sandor’s chin, and his brow as well.  Sandor is her father and we both made her who she is.”

“Sansa!  I won’t hear that sort of racy talk from you!  I raised you to be a lady no matter what your circumstances.”

How could TheGorgon be someone important to LittleBird?  She didn’t even call her by her proper name. 

Ser Goldenpaws edged in next to the bed and looked up at TheGorgon soulfully.

“Eeeek!  What is that creature doing in here?  Out!  Out!”  TheGorgon shouted at Ser Goldenpaws.  No one had ever shouted at him before, unless he was doing something bad dog.  He wasn’t even trying to sneak up onto the bed with TheGorgon and MaidenPup.  Couldn’t TheGorgon see he was sitting just like the Companion Dog Excellent, Canine Good Citizen gentleman that he was, with the ribbons to prove it.  Why was TheGorgon so angry at him?  Why was she holding MaidenPup away from him, so tightly that MaidenPup had begun to make the loud, sad sound?

“Mother,” LittleBird said over the racket, “Ser Goldenpaws has spent almost at much time with Edie as we have.  He’s no danger to her.  Stop shouting at him.”

GrumpyDear stuck his head inside the door, took one look and retreated again.

“It isn’t healthy to have a dog so near a newborn.  I’m sure the maester told me that once.  But what do I know?  I’ve only raised five children.”  Even though she wasn’t shouting anymore, TheGorgon’s voice still had a mean sound to it.

LittleBird gave a big sigh.  “All right.  I don’t want to fight when you’ve just arrived.  I’ll put him out, this one time.”

And that had been the first step in the shrinking of Ser Goldenpaws’ world.  First the big room was off limits.  So he tried to lay by the fire in the smaller room where TheGorgon was sleeping.  Oh, the ruckus that caused.

“I can’t stand it, Sansa!  You know I can’t stand having a dog around me.  Your poor, dear father would still be alive except for that hateful mutt.”

“Mother, it wasn’t the dog’s fault that Father fell into the ravine.  Poor Jon Snow ran himself almost to death trying to fetch help.”

“If that _animal_ had done his job, the flock would have been safe and my darling Ned would have been home by the fire instead of wandering the hills hunting a shadowcat.”  TheGorgon raised a piece of cloth to her face like LittleBird did when her face was leaking.  But Ser Goldenpaws didn’t see any water in TheGorgon’s eyes.

The upstairs became forbidden.  Then the big front room.  Soon the kitchen was the only place Ser Goldenpaws was welcome in the house.

GrumpyDear spent a good deal of time sitting in the kitchen, too, at the table keeping Ser Goldenpaws company.  When he spoke now, it was with that strained quality in his voice, like when he told LittleBird he loved the new curtains or when he told OldNan the boiled cabbage was delicious.

The boiled cabbage was not delicious.  GrumpyDear had tried once to feed it to Ser Goldenpaws under the table.  It was most definitely _not_ delicious.

GrumpyDear would frown at the big room and his big comfy chair that now had ugly pillows on it to prop TheGorgon up.  He would look sadly at LittleBird as she worked on “projects” with the sharp, sticky things that hurt your paws if you stepped on them.  LittleBird was very quiet when she was doing this.  But TheGorgon talked and talked and talked.

“I think Bran will do very well at Highgarden.  The Tyrells were certainly happy to have him as an apprentice and teach him about managing a large estate.  Robb does need help with Winterfell.  And then Bran can come home to live, not run off so far away like you and Arya.”

“Yes, Mother.”  LittleBird said in a colorless voice, so unlike her teasing tones before TheGorgon came to stay.  “Did you see Renly when you were in Highgarden?”

“Oh, yes, Renly seemed to be almost a permanent fixture.  Such a lovely young man.  It’s a pity you and he didn’t … Well, never mind.  What’s done is done and no use crying over it.  That’s what I always say.”

“If she’d chosen Renly there would have been no grandchild for you to monopolize, you old witch.” GrumpyDear growled under his breath.

“Renly and Loras have decided to start a business together in Lys, of all places.  Isn’t that odd?  But I suppose Loras wants to get away from Olenna and her matchmaking.  She can be so overbearing.  Renly was on the run from her and Margaery almost the whole time I was visiting.”

“I’m sure Loras and Renly will be very happy in Lys.”  LittleBird’s voice carried a bit of a bite.

“That reminds me.  Renly gave me some papers for you.  He said to tell you that if she’s ever found, you’ll have what you need to find her a good home.  Silly of the boy to make such a fuss all these months later.”

Lights and darks passed with TheGorgon taking more and more of the household over.  OldNan would grumble about fine ladies thinking she didn’t know her job.  GrumpyDear spent more and more time in his special shed.  Ser Goldenpaws spent more time in the yard as even the kitchen was no longer safe from TheGorgon.

Ser Goldenpaws laid disconsolately by the fence, sighing for the wonderful days of yore.  His friends, Selmy the bloodhound and Tyrion the terrier had been coming by to commiserate each day around this time.  But they could not understand.  Selmy’s human was what was called “a confirmed bachelor” and Tyrion’s humans were very old and their pups had grown and moved away before he came to live with them.

Ser Goldenpaws was rather tired of Tyrion blaming everything on MaidenPup.  “Everything changes, Jaime, when the humans have a pup of their own” he’d said.  But it wasn’t the sweet little pup’s fault.  It was TheGorgon!

Selmy counseled patience.  TheGorgon would leave one day soon and everything would go back to normal.  But the one time GrumpyDear asked if TheGorgon’s brother wasn’t expecting her at some place near some running river, well, you’d have thought he’d used the bad dog voice _and_ swatted her on the nose with the newspaper.  When the cloth for the face leaking came out again, GrumpyDear had practically rolled over and exposed his belly.

TheGorgon was “welcome” in his house for as long as she liked.

GrumpyDear had a spring in his step today.  There was a little box of what was called luggage next to the door and he and LittleBird were dressed up very fancy.

“Mother, we can’t thank you enough.  Tickets to a concert and two whole nights in a hotel!  It’s a dream come true.”  LittleBird gushed.

“No, thanks necessary, Sansa darling.”  TheGorgon’s voice dropped to a whisper.  “I remember what it was like after the first two months.  Tired all the time and then the maester says you can start … you know … again.  I’m sure it’s even more difficult with me in the room just across the hall.”  Her voice raised back up to its normal, bossy tone.  “You and my son-in-law go and have a wonderful time.  Don’t worry about a thing.  I’ll enjoy having my granddaughter all to myself.”

GrumpyDear came down the stairs carrying his hat in his hand.  “We are grateful, Mrs. Stark.  This is very thoughtful of you.”

“It’s my pleasure, Sandor.  You two take your time.  There’s no rush getting back.  I’ll hold down the fort here.”

Ser Goldenpaws watched in dismay as GrumpyDear and LittleBird went off without a backward glance.  He was alone with TheGorgon!

***

Ser Goldenpaws stayed in the kitchen throughout the afternoon.  OldNan fixed up an early supper and TheGorgon ate by herself at the big table off the front room.  Once that was done, TheGorgon sent OldNan upstairs to give MaidenPup her bath. 

“Once you are done with that, you can go to your quarters, Nan.  I won’t be gone but a minute or two.”

“Are you sure, Mrs. Stark?  It don’t seem right to leave the babe all alone upstairs.”

“I’m not going any further than the corner and back.  Sansa insisted that this beast must have his evening walk and his evening walk he shall have.  Now do as you are told.”

Evening walkies!!!!!  Ser Goldenpaws had despaired of walkies with GrumpyDear gone away.  This was his chance.  He’d show TheGorgon what an excellent dog he was and everything would be better.

TheGorgon snapped his leash to his collar and tugged hard on his neck as she walked to the door.

“Come on with you, then!”

TheGorgon kept up a steady stream of words while she walked Ser Goldenpaws to the corner.  She wasn’t even paying any attention to how well he was heeling and how high he was carrying his magnificent head.

“Sansa will be a little sad at first, but then she’ll come around.  Loras said he had the same problem with Renly.  But all is well between them now.  Renly barely even thinks of that beast anymore.  Loras was even able to convince him they had too much to do before their move to come back here to search one last time.  Once you’re out of the way, I’ll start hinting to Sansa to move back up to the North.  We can find work for that brute of a husband if we must.  Then I’ll be able to see that my granddaughter is raised to be a proper lady.  As soon as she’s old enough, I’ll get her a lovely cat.”

Ser Goldenpaws jerked to attention at the despised word “cat”.  He looked around in dismay.  This wasn’t the usual route for his walkies.  They had turned down the alleyway that led to where the horses lived.

Ser Goldenpaws saw a figure in the gloom.  No!  It was the mean boy with the pale eyes!

“Did you bring my money, Mrs?”  The boy said in his mean little voice.

“Stop being so ridiculous, lurking in the shadows.  Come out here where I can see you properly, Ramsay.”

The boy slouched out into the weak light of the street lamp.

“You’ll do exactly as we agreed, just as you did for Mr. Tyrell?”

“I know what I’m doing.  I’ll take this stupid mutt so far out into the woods that he’ll never find his way back.” 

Ser Goldenpaws began to bark.  Surely someone would hear him and come to see.  Something was terribly wrong here.  The boy slipped a rough rope around Ser Goldenpaws neck and pulled it tight, cutting off the noise he was making to try to attract attention.

TheGorgon leaned down to unsnap his leash from his collar.

“Wait, Mrs.,” the boy took a knife and cut right through the leash.  “Better if you say he broke the leash when he ran off in the night.  More convincing.”

“Very well.  Here is half of the agreed on sum.  You’ll get the other half when you come back without him.”  TheGorgon pulled some of the pieces of valuable paper from some hidden place in her clothing and handed them to the boy.

Ser Goldenpaws whimpered in disbelief.  How could this be happening?  He was a good boy, the best boy, LittleBird said.  Now TheGorgon was walking off back up the alleyway and leaving him with the scourge of the neighborhood pets.

The boy, Ramsay, jerked again on the painful rope around Ser Goldenpaws’ neck. 

“You behave now.  Mr. Qyburn has paid me good money for you.  What that bitch don’t know, won’t hurt her.  Course, ole Qyburn don’t care what condition you’re in when he gets ya, just so long as you can cover the bitches he brings ya.  So let’s you and me go into those woods and have some fun.”

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to all who have left kudos or commented on this fic. I will respond to comments when JB Week is over and I have (hopefully) finished this fic. I'm writing furiously in my free time to finish on time for once.


	4. Outcasts (Stranger)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Brienne has PMS.  Dealing with Jaime does not help.

 Chapter Four

Outcasts (Stranger)

She was on the pathway back to the TownCenter from her secret place.  It was almost full dark now.  She had made the mistake of lying down and drifting off, looking at the remnants of the before time.  The frayed bits of the leash She had once worn so proudly.  The gold medallion of her license still attached to the bright blue collar that She had scratched off herself in anger when She realized that She had been betrayed by the one She loved.

She had wasted time on sad thoughts and sad dreams.  She had wavered indecisively over whether to return to town and risk the street dog gangs or to spend the night in the safe place and miss her chance for work the next morning, possibly going without food as a result.

She was never indecisive, except when the needful time was coming on her.

She was trotting down the pathway, saving her energy to run full out once She hit the edge of Hyle’s territory when She heard it.  The most hateful voice in all the world.

“Hmmm, what to cut first?  I bet you don’t really need both those ears, do you?”

Someone was whimpering in fright.  The mean boy was tormenting someone!

“Oh, you want to hang on to your ears, do you?  Then what about an eye?  You don’t need both eyes to fuck a bitch.”

She crept slowly towards the voice.  She hoped She would be in time to help whoever the boy was hurting.  Many of the street dogs carried scars from being trapped by him.  More had vanished after being seen in his vicinity.

A Golden was fighting the cruel rope the boy was trying to tie to a tree.  He was whimpering and whining as the knot grew tighter with his struggles.

“Hold still, you son of a bitch.” The boy commanded, the rope almost secured around the tree.  She had to act now.

With a fierce growl She sprang out of the underbrush and rushed the boy.  He cried out in surprise and dropped the rope holding the male dog and a knife.

She leaped on the boy and bore him down to the ground.  She growled in his face and snapped her teeth very close to his nose.

“Get off me, you beast!”  The boy cried out and began to struggle.  Her weight might not be enough to hold him.

The male dog stood stunned.

“Help me, you idiot.”  She ordered.  “I can’t hold him by myself.”

“But… but, only bad dogs jump on humans.”  The idiot replied.

“And only dead dogs stand there and let themselves be tortured!  You were fighting a minute ago.  Fight now!”

The male dog took hold of the mean boy’s foot and shook it.  The boot came off in his mouth.  The look on his face might have been comical in another situation.

“Yes,” She said, “that’s good.  Throw it as far as you can then get the other one.  He can’t run after us without his shoes.”

“Wha ur hoos?”  The male dog asked with his mouth still full of boot.

“That’s a shoe, you idiot, the thing in your mouth.  Throw it and grab the other one.”

Save her from pampered pets!

He finally seemed to catch on and threw the boot into the underbrush.  He then gave a mighty yank and pulled the second off, with the sock as well.

She adjusted her hold on the struggling, cursing boy and brought her powerful back paw down hard on his stomach.  The breath left the boy in a rush.

“Now run!” She ordered.

“Where?”  The idiot answered.  “What is happening?”

“I’m rescuing you, you stupid pet.  Follow me and try to keep up!”

She took a critical moment to kick the knife as far away from the mean boy as possible.  He was already recovering from her blow and She felt his hand pull some of the feathery fur at the tip of her tail as She began to run.

She pelted through the underbrush, knowing every rabbit hole and tree stump in this section of the woods.  She heard the male dog panting just behind her, but managing to keep pace.  She heard the mean boy screaming threats and curses at them, but not trying to follow their trail. 

They ran for a long time before She felt it was safe to slow to a walk.  Even She was winded.  The pet must be in agony.  She stopped and turned to look at him.

He shook himself several times and leaves and pine needles flew out of his bright golden top coat.  He sat down, with his tongue hanging out of his mouth as he panted hard, but not much harder than She.

“I’m … so … confused.”  The male said between pants.  “Why .. was … he … He was going to hurt me!  Why was he going to do that?”

“He’s a human.  Humans always eventually hurt you.  He’s just more direct in how he does it.”  She answered.

“That’s not true!”  The male dog’s voice was sharp with outrage, the distress of the long run forgotten.  “LittleBird and GrumpyDear would never hurt me!”

“You’re out here, aren’t you?”

She felt weary again.  How long would dogs go on thinking that humans were their friends?

“It wasn’t GrumpyDear and LittleBird that did this.  It was him, the mean boy.  And TheGorgon!”

“Who’s the gorgon?”  How many humans did this dog answer to?

“Oh, no, she’s all alone with MaidenPup.  What if she tries to hurt _her_?  I have to get home.  I have to protect the baby.”

“This pup you’re talking about is a human baby, not an actual dog?” She asked feeling lost in the abundance of stupid names this dog had for the humans in his life.

“Yes, she belongs to me and GrumpyDear and LittleBird.  TheGorgon is LittleBird’s mother.  But she’s mean and evil and she may try to hurt MaidenPup!”  The male dog was becoming more and more agitated.

“This gorgon person is the human baby’s grandmother.  She won’t hurt her.  The humans take care of their own kind.  They probably wanted to get rid of you so you didn’t give the baby fleas or something.”

Ooooh, that did it.  He puffed up like he was going to explode.

“Fleas!  How dare you imply…. I’ve never been so insulted … You take that back!” 

The male dog was kind of amusing in how angry he got over something as simple as fleas.  But they should probably keep moving, so She’d best placate him.

“Sorry.  I’m sure no flea would ever dare to jump on your well groomed paws.  Now let’s move along, all right.  There’s a stream up the way where we can get a drink.  I’m pretty thirsty after that run.”

“Hmph!” The male dog whined.  “Fleas!”

And that was all the placating She had in her.

“You can come along with me or you can wait here for that boy to find you or you can find your own way home, Mr. Fancy Pet.  No fur off my tail whichever you choose.”  And She started down the game trail towards the bubbling sound of the stream.  She heard soft paw falls behind her.

“Your tail!”  She heard him muttering.  “If your tail lost any more fur, you’d look like a Mexican hairless!  And what do you call that coat color anyway?  Dirty pale?  That color is not breed standard!”

“Oooooh, what an insult.  You got me good with that one.”  She snarked back at him.

They came to a stop at the stream.  She waded right in to cool the burn in her paws from all the running over rough ground.  She dipped her muzzle and began to drink.

He eyed her warily.  “Are you sure that water is safe to drink, what with your giant paws in it and all?”

She raised her muzzle and gave him a long look.  “You can drink this or you can go thirsty.  _No fur off my tail_.”

He waded gingerly into the water. 

“OH, that feels wonderful.”

The idiot began to drop.

“NO!!!!! DON’T DO THAT!”  She shouted at him just in time.

“But why?  I’m hot and my coat is all dirty from running through the woods like some demented woods … animal.  This water feels so nice and cool.”

“And if you roll in the cold water there isn’t anything out here to dry you off.  No towels or fireplaces in the woods.  You’ll stay wet and cold all night if you get your winter undercoat soaked through.”

“Oh,” he said quietly, then seemed to recover himself.  “You didn’t have to yell at me though.  I’m very good at listening to instructions.  I am a Companion Dog Excellent.”

“Fancy titles won’t do you any good out here, Mr. Fancy Pet.”

He raised his muzzle from the water and looked directly into her eyes.  “My name is not Mr. Fancy Pet.  That would be a ridiculous name for a pure bred Golden Retriever.  I am Ser Goldenpaws Kingsguard of Casterly Kennels.”

“And that’s _not_ a ridiculous name?” She scoffed.  “No one is going to call you that.  Your humans must have had a simpler name for you.  What was that?”

“I prefer that everyone use my proper name.”  He huffed.

“Do you also prefer getting beaten up?  Because that’s what will happen if any of the dog gangs hear you insist on your registry name.  Now, what is your call name?”

“Jaime.  GrumpyDear calls me Jaime.”

“All right, Jaime, I’ll take you back to the edge of town and you can either find your way to your humans and hope they will take you back or you can try to find some place to hole up until you learn your way around on the streets.”

“The streets?”

“The place without yards or fences to hem you in.  I’ve been on the streets for a while now.  It was hard at first, but then I learned what was what.  You will too.” 

_Maybe.  You aren’t too bright, I think._

“But where are your humans?”

“I don’t have humans.  I don’t need humans.  You can’t trust humans.  That’s the lesson you have to learn now, Jaime.  You have to give up on the fiction that humans are good for you.  You have to leave them in the past.  Even if you go home and they take you back, you can’t depend on anyone but yourself.  It’s better not to keep trying to pretend.”  She tried to break the truth to him more gently this time.

“Do you mean become a … a _stray_?” 

He sounded like it was the worst thing he could imagine.  Like he wasn’t just now on the brink of being tortured by the crazy, mean boy.

“A street dog, not a stray.”

“What’s the difference?  How is one a less horrible fate than the other?”  His eyes were wide with dismay.

She chuffed once at his naivete.

“’Stray’ implies there is someplace the humans think the dog is supposed to be.  Street dogs go where they want.  They don’t have some human telling them what to do every hour of the day, putting leashes and collars on them.  I’m a street dog and I’m the only one who runs my life.”

“I don’t think I can live that way.  GrumpyDear and LittleBird are supposed to come home in two lights to darks …”

“Lights to darks?  Do you mean days?”  She asked, shaking her head at how few practicalities this dog seemed to understand.

“Is that what that word means?”  He asked.

“The light time is the daytime and the dark time is the night time.  When you come around to the daytime again, it’s a new day.”  She tried to sound patient.  She really did.

“But that’s confusing.  The light time is day, but the whole thing is day too?”

She’d never thought about that.

“Yes.  They’re humans.  What can you do?”

“All right then.  GrumpyDear and LittleBird will be back in two days.  I just need to wait until they are home, so maybe three or four days.  If I go back before, TheGorgon might do bad and evil things again.  If you’re absolutely sure that MaidenPup isn’t in any danger, I’ll stay here with you.”

What!  No!  You can’t stay with me.  I’m not staying here in the woods.  I have to go back to town.  I have to work.  I need to eat.”

She couldn’t have a male dog hanging around when her needful time was so close.

“Eating!  Do you have any food?  I’m starving after that run.  I didn’t get any dinner before TheGorgon dragged me out of the house.”

“I can’t give you my food.  I need my food.”  She shouted at him.  “Food is hard to come by.  I work hard to earn it.  The humans don’t just give it away.”

“LittleBird does.  She feeds the birds and the squirrels in my backyard.  She even leaves milk out for the stray … the street cats.  If you help me and get me home, I’ll make sure LittleBird gives you all the food that you can eat, any time you want it.”

She was suspicious.  Could this silly pet really deliver on his promise?  Was it worth the risk that came with having him close to her?

But what would happen to him if She didn’t help him?  Hyle and his ilk would chew this innocent dummy up and spit him out.  Could She live with her conscience if something happened to him?

“All right.  This is what we’ll do.  I have a safe place where you can hide for a few days.  I’ll come back for you and we’ll get you to your home.  There is some food there that you can have.  But you better deliver on your promise, Jaime.” 

She stood up to her full height.  He was big for a Golden, probably right at the top height allowed for showing.  She towered over him him by at least an inch.

“If you don’t, you’ll find I can be a bad dog to cross.”

“What are you going to do in the days until LittleBird and GrumpyDear come back?  I don’t want to stay out here by myself.”

“I have work to do, Jaime.”

“Like GrumpyDear!  I help him with his work all the time.  I’ll help you, too.”

He was bouncing like a puppy at the idea.  He was exhausting.  It would take too long to talk him out of it.  She could tell.  She had to start back to TownCenter if She was going to get any sleep at all tonight.

She sighed heavily.  “You better be able to keep up and keep out of the way.  If you mess up any of my regular jobs, I’m not going to be happy.”

“It doesn’t seem like you’re ever very happy… What’s your name, anyway?”

“I don’t have one.”

“But everybody has a name.”

He looked at her with a little pity in his eyes.  She wasn’t having that.

“Not me.  I shed my name when I shed my human.  Now they call me lots of things, a different name for every circumstance.  But I’m me and nobody else.”

“I have to call you something.”  He looked like he was actually thinking for once.  “LittleBird likes a story about a pirate.  They call the females in it Wench.  That’s what I’ll call you.”

“Not if you want me to answer, you won’t.”

“So, Wench, when are we going to get the food you mentioned.  And what are we going to do tomorrow, Wench?”

The idiot male smirked at her.  What had she been thinking, promising to help him?

“Hey, Wench …”

It was going to be a long four days.

  

 

 

 

 


	5. Surprisingly Useful

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's hard on the mean streets of Lannisport.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you again to everyone who has left comments and kudos for this story. I promise I will respond to you once I finish the last chapter.
> 
> I’m having to use two POVs in this.  I couldn’t make it work otherwise.
> 
> This isn’t really even tangentially related to the day 5 theme of the Father.  But I’m still handwaving it in.

 Chapter Five

Surprisingly Useful (Father)

Wench prodded him awake in the dark that was turning to light … the daybreak.  Wench _hated_ it when he didn’t use the right words to describe things.

Ser Goldenpaws understood why Tyrion sometimes chuckled at him and Selmy shook his long ears and whispered “Puppy”.

He’d memorized more “proper” terms for things in the last three days than in the whole two years before.  She had no appreciation for his more insouciant view of the world and the humans.  Wench was very serious.

The last three days could not have been more different than the first two years of his life.

***

After they escaped the mean boy, Wench had shown him to a dark, dank den where she had hidden things, like food.

“This is _my_ safe place.” Wench said in a firm voice.  “Once we leave, you must never come here again.”

“But it’s plenty big for both of us.”  Ser Goldenpaws was exploring the safe place with his nose.  There were very interesting smells here.

“Jaime, I only come here when I need to be alone, at … at _special_ times.  Times when I don’t want the street dogs to find me.  You have to promise that you won’t come here again.  I won’t help you if you don’t give me your word.”  The upset in her voice came out as a little bit of a whine.

That got Ser Goldenpaws’ attention.  “But why don’t you want to share special times with anybody else?”

The real Wench was back.  The look she gave him said he was very stupid and that it was none of his business with one blue eyed glare.

“I need you to promise.”  A little bit of a growl entered her voice.

“All right, I promise.  My word of honor as a Canine Good Citizen.”

He saved up the question for when he got home.  Tyrion was very smart and would know the answer.

It was difficult to get to know Wench, what with the seriousness and the mind your own business-ness.  But she had been generous with her space and with her food.

The food sharing especially showed she was a good dog at heart, no matter how much she chuffed and growled at him or how often she criticized humans.

That first night, they had walked through the woods back to the town, always keeping an ear out for the mean boy and other dogs.  They had walked and walked and walked until finally they had run.  Wench said they had to get through TownCenter quickly and avoid somebody named Hyle and his mutts.

When they reached this wharf place, Wench had crawled through a maze of boxes.  At first he had thought it was for a bit of fun after all the seriousness and scariness of the day, like a new obedience course.  But it was actually leading to where Wench slept!

It had been a tight fit for the two of them in her hidden den, since he was at the very top of the height and weight standard and she was over it.  They had to sleep wrapped around one another.  But he found that comforting and warm in the cold night air.  It reminded Ser Goldenpaws of when he was just a pup, before LittleBird and GrumpyDear had come to fetch him to his home.

He sighed in contentment.  Wench gave him a funny look.

“My littermate and I used to sleep this way, all curled up together.  Light of the West would only sleep next to me, not any of our other brothers and sisters.”

“Light of the West?  Really?  Your breeder certainly went in for silly names.”

“Well, what’s your name?  Oh, right, you say you don’t have one?  It’s not honorable to mock my name if you don’t let me do the same back to you.”

Wench huffed, but did not argue with his logic.  He prodded her in the side with his nose to drive home his point.

“I’m letting you call me Wench.  That makes us even.”  And she tucked her nose under a paw and settled down to sleep.

Ser Goldenpaws was very tired from his terrible night and all the running and walking but he could not fall asleep. 

He had not thought about Light of the West for a long time.  Though she had been beautiful, she had also been stubborn and selfish.  She refused to answer to any call name their breeder tried. 

Ser Goldenpaws _preferred_ his proper name, but had answered to Jaime the minute he heard it.  It wasn’t as dignified, but it did sound right somehow. 

His sister monopolized their mother’s attention and growled at their other littermates when they came near.  She hated the other pups and only tolerated Ser Goldenpaws because he was as beautiful and perfect as she was.

Light of the West would have hated Wench.  She would never have seen past the patchy fur, the tattered ear, the too long legs and too tall withers.  She would never have seen that her blue eyes, while not breed standard, were kind and honest and somehow beautiful.

A dark eyed, dark haired man had come and taken Light of the West away just a few days before LittleBird and GrumpyDear became his humans.  The dark man said he had many daughters and they wanted a pet.  Light of the West wasn’t pleased about that.  She had expected that she would be the champion of all dogs as soon as she was old enough to show.  She had whined at him to rescue her all the way out of the kennel.

Ser Goldenpaws hoped his sister was happy in her new home and that the many daughters brushed her coat and ran with her in the park.  Having your humans love you was more important than winning any dog shows and gaining any titles.  He was more sure of that now that he was faced with being a street dog, even if it was temporary. 

Though the wins and the titles were very nice indeed.

The three days with Wench had been hard on him.  His coat was matted, his paws and haunches ached.  He’d been scolded more than he had when he was being house broken. 

But he’d done good things, too.  He’d helped pull carts and and guard children.  He’d chased a pecking pigeon away from a baby carriage and earned a sweetie all by himself!  He’d let an old man lean on him as he lowered himself onto a bench.  That had only earned him a pat on the head, but he’d felt very good about himself after.

On the second day he’d helped Wench carry some bones they found to her secret place, even though she had told him never to come back there.

When he did that, Wench had called him surprisingly useful!

It was that night, as they were coming back to TownCenter, that Ser Goldenpaws had made his great discovery.

They were walking to the bakery, where they had worked that morning.  Wench had hidden some of the hard cookies that the baker boy made specially for her.  They would take those to their hidey hole and have them for supper.

An absolutely wonderful smell assaulted all his senses.  Before Wench could stop him, Ser Goldenpaws took off at a run to find the source of that marvelous odor.

Wench followed on his heels yelling at him the whole time.

“Jaime, stop!  Those are the restaurants!  They don’t want dogs around them!”

He skidded to a stop in front of an open doorway.  Wench stopped farther down the alleyway.

“Get away from there, you idiot!  They’ll call the dog catchers on you if you aren’t careful.”

A little human poked her head out the door to see what the commotion was.  That was good.  Little humans all liked Ser Goldenpaws.

“Papa, Papa,” the little human cried out.  “There’s a doggy out here.  Can we keep him?”

A man came to the door and put his hand (more proper terms!) on the little human’s head.

Ser Goldenpaws gave the man the big, sad eyes that always got extra treats from LittleBird.

“He has a collar on, sweetling.  He must have owners somewhere.”

Ser Goldenpaws added a little whimper to the big, sad eyes.

“Are you lost, boy?”

He whimpered in agreement.

“Are you hungry?”

That question got a woof in the affirmative.

“You wait here then.  I’ll bring you some food and when the dinner rush is over, we’ll try to find out where you live.”

Ser Goldenpaws smirked down the alley at Wench.

Wench slinked a little closer. 

“Now you’ve done it.  He’s going to call the dog catcher.  They’ll take you in and call your humans.  If this LittleBird and GrumpyDear aren’t back yet, that gorgon will tell the dog catcher to put you down.”

“He said he won’t call until after dinner.  That’s hours from now.  When LittleBird and GrumpyDear go out to a restaurant, they don’t come home until the stars are out.  We’ll have plenty of time to eat and leave while they are all busy in there.”

“But, that’s … that’s _dishonorable_.”

“Aren’t you the one who’s always saying that you can’t count on humans?”

Wench was still reluctant at first to take something she didn’t earn.  But the restaurant man brought him a big plate the slippery things in red gravy with big balls of meat.  That was the sublime smell that had brought Ser Goldenpaws running to the door.  The restaurant man had laughed when he sat down like a gentleman and waited until the plate was on the ground and then waited some more.

“Well, go ahead, fella.”

He took a couple of delicate bites and, satisfied, restaurant man went back inside.  Wench was drawn to him by the delicious smells.  He graciously stepped back.

“You’ve shared your food with me, Wench.  Now I can return the favor.”

They left that plate licked clean as a compliment to the chef.

As they walked to the wharf to sleep, Wench complained, “I never could have gotten away with that.  It’s only because you’re so pampered and handsome.  He’d have driven me off with a broomstick.”

“Ooooooh, you think I’m handsome, Wench?”

“Don’t you brag that you have the titles to prove it?  Now hurry up, we need to get home before dark.”

_Home?  Hmmm, that’s an interesting thought._

***

He’d teased Wench relentlessly the whole next day.

“Doesn’t this harness look _handsome_ on me, Wench?”

“You may be faster, but I look so handsome when I’m running.  Are you sure you don’t want to follow me so you can admire my conformation?”

He’d nudged and teased and nipped at her all day, until he could tell she was at the boiling point.

“Where do you want to dine tonight, Wench?  Choose a restaurant, any restaurant.  This handsome fellow will get you the meal of your dreams.”

And he did.

He chattered at her the whole way back to the wharf, reliving the beautiful steak scraps, the bit of ham, the rinds of cheese that a young man had snuck out of the kitchen of the best restaurant in town, where Wench had been delivering meat with the butcher’s son for months.

They’d both been so distracted that they hadn’t noticed the two dogs that followed them into the alleyway.

“Look at that.  Beast has found her Beauty.  Where’d you dig up this pretty boy, Beast?”

Wench kept on walking, ignoring the cur’s insults.

“Oh you’re so high and mighty aren’t you, Beast?”

Ser Goldenpaws stopped and glared at the mutts.  “Don’t call her that.  If can’t you talk to her respectfully, don’t talk to her at all.”

“OOOooh, listen to Mr. Fancy Pet.  Whatever it is you want from her, fella, you won’t get it.  She won’t fight and she won’t …”

Ser Goldenpaws didn’t know what it was the mutt was going to say, but Wench tensed as she waited for it.  He couldn’t stand for it.  He wouldn’t stand for it.  He growled and he leaped.

It wasn’t the most effective attack in the annals of dogdom.  But his front paw came down hard on the cur’s muzzle and drove it into the ground.

As the Red dog lay dazed, Wench whirled on the second mutt and snapped her teeth in his direction.  He turned and ran down the alley with his tail between his legs.

Wench loped and Ser Goldenpaws limped/ran towards the wharf.  When they were safe in their den, she shove her huge head into his shoulder.

“What were you thinking?  If more of his gang had been hiding and waiting, they could have hurt you!”

“I wasn’t going to just stand there and let him insult you!”  No matter if he was _temporarily_ a street dog, he was still a gentleman and Wench was his friend.

“Words are wind, Jaime.  I’ve heard all of it before, every variation since I was a puppy.  Nothing those mongrels can _say_ can hurt me.”

“Well, it hurt me to hear it.” Ser Goldenpaws huffed, insulted that his valiant defense was going unappreciated.

Wench turned her back to him and panted for a few breaths.  “It’s just as well you’re going home tomorrow, Jaime.  Red, Bushy and their gang will be on the lookout for you now.”

“Tomorrow?  Already?”

“It will be the fourth day.  Your humans should be back and it will be safe for you to go home.”

“Will it be safe for you?  Will they try to hurt you if they can’t find me?”

“If your humans give me the food you promised, I’ll go into the woods for a while.  By the time I come back, they will have forgotten about it.  They aren’t too bright and they can’t remember things well enough to hold onto grudges for very long.”

“Oh.  The food I promised.  That’s why you’ve been helping me.  I forgot.”  He said quietly.

Wench’s voice was even quieter.  “Yes, that’s why I’ve been helping you.”

They slept that night curled around each other again.  But it no longer felt warm or comfortable.  It was time for Ser Goldenpaws to go to his real home.

***

She woke Jaime as the sun was coming up. It was later than normal for her, but She wouldn’t be going to any of her jobs today.  As soon as She had returned Jaime to his humans, She would go into the woods and stay there this time, no matter what.  Her weepiness over Jaime’s defense of her was another indicator that her needful time was very close.

She expected that it would take a while to find Jaime’s home.  His description of where he lived was vague at best.  He knew that there were three turns to the entrance to the park.  But he didn’t know which entrance and wasn’t even completely sure which park!

She kept them out of the alleyways as they ran through TownCenter.  Hyle and his mutts were probably still sleeping off last night’s mayhem, but better to be safe.  They slowed when they reached the broader avenues.

“Does any of this seem familiar, Jaime?”

He had been quiet all the way out to the fancy pet part of town.  She knew that she had hurt his feelings last night, but better to do that than to have him suggest something silly, like that they stay friends.  Pets and street dogs could not be friends.  She had forgotten that.

“Is there a park here?”  he asked, his cold tone indicating that staying friends would not be an issue.

“No but we aren’t far from Warden Park.  I know you never paid much attention to what your humans said unless it was about you, but does that name sound familiar?”

“Just take me there.  Isn’t that what you’re being paid to do?”

They tried Warden Park, then Gold Mine Park.  The sun was already lowering in the sky when they reached Bringer of the Dawn Park.

She didn’t like being here.  She once knew this park so well.  She and her human used to come in by a smaller, side entrance, but She had spent many hours here walking on her leash, chasing balls and rolling in the grass at her human's feet begging for a belly rub.  She couldn’t get out of here quickly enough.

“Well?” She asked as they stood at the big gate.

Jaime raised his head and sniffed the air.  He looked around and then gave a joyful bark.

“This is it!” He turned in a circle several times and then stopped, looking down a street.  “That’s the way.  That’s the way to my home!  Come on, Wench!”

And he ran down the street, faster than she had seen him run, even when they were being chased by the mean boy.

She followed a ways behind him, letting the distance open up, but not losing sight of him.  After the three turns, just as he described, he reached a back garden.  At the gate, he started to bark powerfully.  Then he move back a few steps, took off at a run and leaped over the low fence that separated the garden from the walkway.

She stopped half the length of the street away.  She saw a tall, powerful looking man come running out of the house, followed by a beautiful, young woman with long flowing hair.  The both fell to their knees and embraced … Ser Goldenpaws.  She heard their cries of joy, the questions they asked of him.  He licked and lapped at their hands and faces and they laughed and embraced him again.

It was time for her to go.  She had no place here, not even to get the food that he had promised her back when he was frightened and in need.

She heard him calling out, confused.  “Wench?  Wench!  Come and meet my humans.  Where are you, Wench?”

“Brienne.”  She thought.  “My name is Brienne.”

Brienne ran past a portly little Yorkie and an elderly bloodhound.  She turned the corner and ran right into the trap.  Someone must have called the dog catcher.  It was like he was waiting for her.


	6. Through This Fray (Mother)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Brienne finds herself in a terrible place.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so this gets pretty dark.  Like Bloody Mummer/Locke’s gang/Harrenhal dark.   
> Please be warned.

 Chapter Six

Through This Fray (Mother)

Day had turned to night while Brienne lay on the floor of the cage.  She felt strangely lethargic.  She had fought hard when the dog catcher took her, even harder when she was unloaded from the wagon at the big double doors leading into the pound.  She knew the fate she was facing if they brought her inside.  But there were two men there to wrestle her to the ground and force the muzzle onto her.  They pulled the chain leash very tight around her neck and used a long pole to prod her into this cage.

At first Brienne had paced and whined and tried to claw the muzzle off.  The big dog catcher with the funny teeth left, hitting the door of her cage as he passed.

“Gonna like gassin’ you, bitch.  Maybe skin ya after and wear you like a coat.”  He said.

“Thtop that, Biter!”  The tall man who seemed to be in charge of the pound admonished.  “Thhe’s not yourth to torture.  Now get that wagon cleaned out before you go.”

The tall man brought her a bowl of water. 

“Here you go, girl.  You drink thome of that down.  Thingth’ll be lookin up thoon, at leatht for me.”

He had a nasty laugh, but Brienne was so thirsty after the long walk with Jai … Ser Goldenpaws and then fighting for her freedom.  She couldn’t resist the cool, clear water, even if it did taste funny.

The tall man retreated to his office.  With the door left open, she could hear him make a telephone call.

“Got one for you, Mr.  Oh, thhe’s a beauty, thhe is.  Jutht what you’ve been looking for.  Thith one’th gonna cotht you double.”

As Brienne began to feel woozy, she was reassured that he could not be talking about her.  Nobody would call her a beauty or pay double for her.

***

Brienne figured out there was something wrong with the water just about the time she collapsed to the ground and found her legs would not obey her commands.  She tried to whine around the muzzle, but could not make herself produce any sound.  The thin man came back to her and smiled a mean little grin.

“Not tho tough now, are you?”  He pushed the water bowl closer to her.  “Jutht in cathe you want thome more.”

Brienne rolled her eyes to watch him go back to his office.

She did not know how long she drifted on whatever wave that bad water had produced.  She had almost as little control of her thoughts as she had of her body.

She worried that the dog catcher had gotten Jaime, too.  She tried and tried to lift her head, to see the other cages, to make sure that he had not done something stupid and gotten hurt.  And then she remembered he was home with his humans in their pretty house, wearing his fancy name again. 

And she was alone.

At least she had the comfort of knowing that Jaime was safe.

Her mind wandered into the past.

She thought for a moment that she smelled cedar and lemons.  Her heart beat hard.  Her human had come back!  He had come to save her!  She waited and waited.  But just like the first time, he never came for her.

She was alone.

She remembered when the curly haired man had intruded into their home.  Her human had loved him.  But the curly haired man’s pouty lips curled in disgust every time he looked at her.  It wasn’t too long before her human was looking at her with a different expression in his eyes.  He didn’t talk to her about his day any more.  He stopped taking her to the park for long, lazy times of playing in the grass and running after her ball.  They only went out for short walks in the late afternoon or at night.  Brienne knew he was ashamed to be seen with a dog as ugly as she was.

She remembered when her human came to find her at her breeder.  She already knew she didn’t look the way she was supposed to.  She didn’t act the way she was supposed to.  Her littermates played and gamboled around the yard, catching the eyes of everyone who came looking for a pup who would make them its human.  She was too big.  Her brothers complained that she always won when they wrestled or played tug of war.  Her sisters worried that something could happen to them and they’d be scarred like she was.  And one by one her littermates were taken away to be with their humans.

But He came and saw her lying by herself, chewing on a toy that was even bigger than she was.  He laughed and picked her up.

“Who are you, sweetling?”

Her breeder answered.  “You have a good eye, ser.  That’s a special girl you have you there.  Near three months old and ready to be taken to her forever home.”

“What happed to her ear?”

“Rat got into the pen a while back.  I had the mother out for some exercise and there was no one there to protect the pups.  Could have done some real damage to the litter.  She fought it off all by herself, but it tore up her ear some.”

Her human smiled at her.  “Her’s Is The Fury.  What a brave girl.”

“I love all my pups equally, ser.  But if you're looking for a pet, rather than a show dog, you couldn’t choose better than my Brienne.”

She went back even further.  The softness of her mother’s fur.  The warmth of milk in her mouth as she nursed.

She might have drifted all the way to the black, before she came to be.  But a knocking at the doors to the pound brought her mind back to the here and now.

The thin man opened the doors for a medium size man with a curious face.  The new man smelled like chemicals and like rot.

They walked over to her cage and stared down at her.

“What did I tell you, Mithter Qyburn.  Thhe’s exactly what you’ve been athking for.”

The other man crouched down and looked at her with empty eyes.  “She certainly is, Mr. Hoat.  Magnificent.” 

His voice was as empty as his eyes.

“We’ll settle up in your office, Mr. Hoat.  Then you can walk her out to my wagon.”

“Walk her!  Thhe can barely move!”

“How much of the compound did you give her, Mr. Hoat?”  There was something in his voice, now.  Even in her vague state, Brienne could recognize anger and disdain.

“I wasn’t thuppothed to give her all of it?”  The thin man … Hoat asked.

“Stranger’s Hood, man, you’re lucky you didn’t kill her.  You’ll carry her out to my wagon before I give you a penny.”

“What?  Thhe mutht weigh a ton!”

“And I can’t possibly move her myself.  If we can’t get her out of here before her presence is recorded by tomorrow’s day shift, she’s no use to me.”

With much grumbling the Hoat man went and fetched a large cart and struggled to lift her up into it. 

She wanted to fight.  She wanted to so badly, but no part of her would obey her urgent commands.  They wheeled the cart down to the doors.

The cart smelled like death.

The Hoat man gripped her again, first her front to heave her into the dark wagon and then her back half to push her all the way in.

The empty man, Qyburn, took some money out of his pocket and started to hand it to the Hoat man.  Then he pulled it back a bit.

“Remember to keep an eye out for that other Golden I talked about.  The champion.  I still have plans for him.” 

He gave the Hoat man the money and turned away from him.

Qyburn ran a firm hand over her head and cradled her muzzle. 

“Don’t worry, my dear.  It won’t be long before you are back in fighting shape.”

***

Brienne could not tell how long the wagon traveled.  It was still very dark when they arrived.  As the empty man maneuvered her from the wagon onto a strange rolling table she could see that they were on the very edge of town, where the fancy pet neighborhoods met the beginning of the woods.  The stables she was being moved into stood next to a house with a big yard.  There were no other houses near, as if this house was being shunned.

When the rolling table came to a stop, the empty man, Qyburn, lit several lanterns. 

There were dogs huddled in pens, broken dogs, dogs that were missing limbs or had bandages around some part of themselves.  She did not think this was a place where dogs came to be healed.  This was a place where dogs came to be hurt.

“Now let’s have a good look at you, my dear.  Best I do this before the compound wears off.  You look as though you’d like to take my head off.”  Qyburn chuckled.

What followed was humiliating for a proud dog like Brienne.  Qyburn examined every part of her.  His fingers went where no human fingers were meant to go.  There could only be one reason he was so interested in that part of her.

“Excellent, my dear.  I believe estrus is beginning.  It’s a good thing there were no male dogs in the pound tonight.  You might have caused quite the hullabaloo.  In a few days, perhaps a week you will be receptive.”

Brienne closed her eyes and tried to growl at the man.  She tried very hard, but she now could only make a whimper.

“Ah, things are wearing off.  I’d best get you into your pen and you can wait for your swain.  I’ll need some time to give him the calming agent.  I hope it will be enough.  None of the other females have survived being bred to Gregor.  But you are strong.  You’re a fighter.  I can tell.  You might just give us the pups we need and we can finally put that monster down.”

Qyburn put her in a pen separate from all the other dogs.  He laid her on a blanket and removed the muzzle.  Brienne was able to raise her head perhaps half an inch, but her jaws would not answer her demands that they part and bite, bite hard.  Then he blew out the lanterns and left her there.

She began to try to stretch her muscles.  She had to get control of her body back.  She had to find a way to escape.  If she could not escape, then she had to be prepared to fight this Gregor and protect herself, even to kill him if she had to or die in the attempt.  She would not have puppies and have this horrible Qyburn man take them and use them for something terrible.

She would not!

“Hey!” A voice called out. “Hey!  Ser m’lady!”

Brienne raised her head just a little and saw the cage next to hers.

“Podrick?”

Podrick was a sweet little terrier mix who had shadowed her for almost a month in the late part of the summer.  She had done her best to protect him, but wasn’t always successful.  When he disappeared, she had hoped that a human had found the gentle dog and taken him in.  Then she heard that the dog catcher had gotten him.

“Podrick, how long have you been here?”  Brienne asked urgently.

“A long time, Ser m’lady.  This isn’t a good place.  You have to get out of here.  They’re bringing the monster back in three night times.”

“The monster?  Is that the one Qyburn calls Gregor?”

Podrick shook at the mention of Qyburn’s name.  Then shook harder at Gregor’s.”

“Yes.  He’s a fighting dog.  He kills every dog he fights.  He kills any dog that gets near him.  His owner wants to get puppies from him and then put him down.  Then they’ll make the puppies into fighting dogs.  They don't realize that he understands.  He kills every female ... after.”

“I don’t have to get out of here, Podrick.  _We_ have to get out of here.  Now tell me everything you know about this place.”

Qyburn had made a mistake when he took her.  She wasn’t some docile bitch to wait to be used and abused.  She would find a way out of here for herself and for Podrick and for all these other dogs if it was the last thing she did.


	7. Plots And Plans (Warrior Pt. 1)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Can Brienne escape the fate that Qyburn has planned?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This last chapter got so big that I had to divide it into two parts.  The second part should be up later today or tomorrow, I hope.
> 
>  

 Chapter Seven

Plots And Plans (Warrior Pt.1)

Notes:  This last chapter got so big that I had to divide it into two parts.  The second part should be up later today or tomorrow, I hope.

 

The empty man returned to the barn not long after sunrise the next morning.  Brienne finally felt as if the effects of the drug she had been given were out of her system and was on her feet as soon as she heard him approach the doors. 

There were two rows of kennels on either side of the barn.  Most of the other spaces had two or even three dogs in them.  It was surprisingly clean in the barn with that many dogs penned up together.  Someone must clean out the cages frequently.  Even the dogs that were injured did not smell of waste or rot.  Why would this Qyburn take such meticulous care of animals he was deliberately hurting?

The doors opened and the man himself bustled in.  He pushed a wheelbarrow before him that contained a number of bowls and two large buckets.  At each cage, he silently dipped a ladle into one of the buckets and plopped a small amount of mush into one of the bowls.  Another bowl was filled with water from the second bucket.  He then pushed the two bowls, one after the other, through an opening at the base of cage doors.

Even though it was feeding time, none of the dogs moved to eat.

At Brienne’s cage, he reached into the barrow and pulled out two other bowls, larger and already filled.

“Here you go, my dear.  Something special for you.”

The food bowl was filled with large chunks of beef, glistening with juices.  Brienne’s mouth watered at the smell.  He pushed that bowl through the opening with a stick, keeping his hands well out of range of her muzzle.  He followed it with a brimming bowl of water.

“Eat up, my dear.  You must be very hungry.  You have to keep your strength up.”

Brienne made no move towards the bowls.

“Do you not trust that it isn’t drugged?  You are clever.  There are some extra nutrients added to the water, but I assure you I haven’t put in anything that would affect your stamina or your spirit.”

He reached into the cage just far enough to dip his fingers in the water bowl.

Brienne growled long and low.

“That’s the spirit, my girl!”  Qyburn sucked the water from his fingers and made an expression he must have meant as a smile.  “See nothing bad here.”

He continued on down the row of cages, distributing the meager amount of food the other dogs were receiving until he came to a set of closed doors.  When he opened those doors the most horrible smells gusted out but were contained as soon as they were closed again.

Shaking, Podrick looked up at Brienne with terror in his eyes.  “You never want to go through those doors, Ser m’lady.  Do anything you must, bite him, scratch, jump.  Fight him before you let him take you through those doors.”

Brienne ate a small amount of the food, enough to sate the worst of her hunger pangs and drank a bit of the water.  Then she waited to see if she suffered any ill effects.

The other dogs moved finally to take a few bites from their bowls of mush and a few laps of their water.  It was evidence of how downcast they were that none of them envied her brimming food bowl.  When she asked about it, the only answer she got that she was going to face “The Monster.”

She questioned Podrick and the other dogs about everything she could think of. 

Brienne learned that the doors to each kennel were opened rarely.  A system of hoses, drainage holes and troughs were used to clean the cages each day.  That route of escape was closed.

No able-bodied dog was removed from a kennel unless they were drugged or controlled with a choke rope and pole like the dog catchers used on her.  And all the other dogs in that kennel were also either drugged or too injured to put up any kind of fight.

Other than Qyburn, no one came into the barn except a few people who sold animals to him and the men who owned The Monster.  And none of them cared anything more about the well being of dogs than Qyburn did.

Brienne continued to talk to the other dogs, more to try and raise some spirit in them than for information.  Qyburn returned twice more that day to deliver more food and water to her cage, but none to anyone else.

Once she verified the food was indeed untainted, Brienne did her best to share what she had with the dogs in the nearest cages and encouraged them to share as well.  Many of them were too lethargic to take more than a bite or two of meat before they lay back down, hopeless and waiting for death to release them from this horrible place.

As night fell on her first full day in captivity, she flopped down against the back wall of her kennel.  It was the wooden side of the barn and as her weight leaned against it she felt just the tiniest bit of give in the second board up from the floor.

She used more pressure and felt the board give again.  The planks and supports were showing signs of rot, probably from the water used to clean the kennels.  Perhaps, just perhaps, her weight would be enough to push the board away from the frame of the barn.

For the next two days, every moment that she could, she worried at the planking of the barn at the back of her cage.  A few of the other dogs, those who still had some strength and unbroken spirit, did what they could to help.  If they could push the board free at least Podrick and some of the dogs on her side of the barn might be able to escape and make it to safety.

The afternoon on the third day, she heard Qyburn exited his horrible workroom.  It must be her feeding time again.  Brienne quickly laid down to cover the place where the plank was loosest and told the other dogs on her side to do what they could to cover their efforts as well while he walked down the row of kennels and out the door.

Qyburn returned in a few minutes with another brimming bowl.

“Enjoy this, dearie.  Your swain is being returned tonight.  It will take a few days before he absorbs enough of my compounds to calm him sufficiently.  But you’ll both be ready for breeding soon.  I expect the pups you give me will be quite magnificent.”

Brienne growled low in her throat.

“Until then, it will be much less peaceful once he’s back in the barn.  He’ll still be in an aggressive state from his fighting.  He’ll almost certainly need a few of the smaller dogs to take the edge off.” 

Qyburn’s eyes roamed the kennels.  He nodded or shook his head as he surveyed the other dogs.  When his eye lighted on Podrick, he gave one of his hideous smiles.

“I had almost forgotten about you, little fellow.  I was so very disappointed that you had already been fixed when I bought you from Ramsay.  Well, well, you can still serve a purpose.”

Podrick shook and peed on the floor of his kennel.

“One would think you almost understood me.”  Shaking his head, Qyburn disappeared back into the bad smelling room.

There was no more time.  She had to get Podrick out of this awful place.  After that, well, Brienne still had her strength.  She would fight before submitting to The Monster, no matter how odd or lonely her needful time had begun to make her feel.  Until her last minute, she would try to save as many of these poor souls as she could.

“It won’t be long now, Podrick.  I can feel the board getting looser every time we push against it.”

Podrick’s frightened brown eyes watched as she put her powerful body against the loose board, again and again, pushing with all her might.  “You almost have it, Ser m’lady.”

“Go back over the plan, Pod,” Brienne asked, to calm his nerves.

“When we get free, the other dogs run for the woods.  They follow the trail on the right all the way to the river.  They should wait there for three days before they come back into the town.  But they should take the trail on the left to come back, to stay away from this place.”

“And what do you … we do?”

“We run to the neighborhood and hide until nightfall.  Then we find the entrance at the dawn park that has the big statue of the two humans with their long pointy sticks.  We run straight for two streets, turn at the yard that has the big tree with the swing, turn again on the next two streets.  Your friend’s house is on that street.  We tell him what’s happened and get the food he promised you and go into the woods to help the other dogs.”

“That’s exactly right, Pod.  We have to do this, no matter what happens.  Promise me that you’ll follow the plan no matter what.”  Brienne gave Podrick her most serious look.

“I promise, Ser m’lady.  You promise, too.”

“I promise, Podrick.”

Would Ser Goldenpaws help him if Podrick managed to find his way to his home?  He owed her for her assistance while he was on the streets.  She had to have faith that he hadn’t backslid all the way to the pampered pet she had first encountered in the woods … was it only seven days ago?

She could feel it.  The board was going.  One more push.

“Everybody get ready! Now, all together.  Push!” Brienne cried.

With a shriek, the long plank fell away from the side of the barn.

“Everybody out!  Smallest dogs first.  Don’t block the opening.  If you can’t fit or can’t jump high enough, we’ll work on another board to make more room.”

Podrick jumped through easily.  He looked at her expectantly from the other side, from freedom.

“I’ll never fit through this gap, Podrick.  Run now.  Follow the plan.”  Brienne ordered.

“But, Ser m’lady …”

“I was never going to make it.  We both knew that.  Follow the plan, Pod.  You promised.”

Injured dogs were struggling to get through the gap.  Other dogs were giving them pushes up and over, then following if they could.  Brienne could hear paws walking, limping, running away from this horrible place into the woods.  Hopefully to safety.

Podrick looked sadly at her one last time.  He poked his nose through the gap.  Brienne crouched down to press her muzzle to his.  Pod gave a little whine as he breathed deeply of her scent.  Then he turned at ran towards the streets of the fancy neighborhood.  She watched him for as long as she could in the twilight’s gloom.

***

Jaime lay in his back garden, nose buried under his paws, staring into the falling darkness.  Selmy and Tyrion were on the other side of his fence, trying to talk him out of his funk.

“You’re home, you silly pooch.  You could have died, or caught a horrible disease, or had to eat garbage for the rest of your life.  Why are you acting like they shaved you bald and called you Sally?”  Tyrion had become more and more exasperated with him over the last few days.  Jaime couldn’t find it in himself to care.

“Now, Tyr, give the boy a little time to adjust.  It must have been a horrible experience out there all on his own.  It’s a miracle he made it back in one piece.”  Selmy’s voice was slow and soothing.

Jaime muttered under his breath.

“What was that, fella?  Didn’t catch it.”  Selmy said.

“I wasn’t alone,” Jaime said flatly.

“Ahhhhhhh,” said Tyrion, “there’s the other shoe to chew on.  If you weren’t alone, who, pray tell, were you with?”

Jaime stared at Tyrion’s mocking face.  “Another dog.” He said flatly.

“So reticent!  Come, come, my boy, share all.  Did young Ser Goldenpaws finally leave puppyhood behind him, perhaps?  Did you meet some seductress of a stray and spend your missing days experiencing all the bliss that l’amour can hold?”

“Tyrion,” Selmy reprimanded, “don’t try to embarrass the boy.  Let him tell his story in his own way.”

“But if he doesn’t tell the story, I just have to let my imagination take over.”

“And your imagination has gotten prurient since your humans starting putting you out to stud.”

“It wasn’t like that.” Jaime declared.  “Wench wasn’t like that.  She helped me when she didn’t have to.  She fought off the mean boy in the woods.  She showed me how she earns her food.  She lives all alone.  She wanted to go off by herself in the woods to have her “special time”, whatever that is.  Wench doesn’t have any humans and she’s proud of it.  She’s completely wrongheaded and stupid about everything!”  Jaime finished with a shout.

“You sound pretty passionate about her, son,” Selmy observed.

“Heh, heh.  Passionate!” Tyrion chuckled.

“Stop it, both of you!  She’s the biggest, ugliest, stupidest Golden that anyone has ever seen.  Ever!  Wench only helped me so she could get food from my humans.  And then she ran away without even meeting them.  Without even saying goodbye to me!”  Jaime flopped back down on his grass with a whine.

“She’s the worst dog ever whelped!  Even if she is smart and loyal and a great fighter and has the prettiest eyes.  I don’t want to talk about her anymore!”

“Wait,” said Selmy, “a big Golden in this neighborhood on the day you came home?  Tyrion, you don’t think it could be …”

“The one the dog catcher got?”  All the teasing was gone from Tyrion’s voice.

“What?!”  Jaime leapt to his paws.  “What are you talking about?”

With interruptions from Tyrion (“Clarifications, Selmy.  Clarifications!”), the story of what happened to Brienne as she walked away from Jaime’s street came out.

“I have to find her!”  Jaime declared.  “I have to help her!”

“Do you indeed, my boy?”  Tyrion asked, innuendo dripping from his tone.

“Wench saved me.  I have to repay her and save her right back.”

“So what’s your plan, boy?” Selmy asked.

“I … I…” Jaime thought harder than he’d ever thought in his life.  “I can jump over the fence and get myself caught by the dog catcher.  When they call GrumpyDear and LittleBird to come and get me, we’ll take Wench as well.”

“You’d run away and let yourself be taken by the dog catcher?” Tyrion asked, appalled.  “You’d break the sacred bond between a dog and his humans? You’ll be tainted if you do that, an outcast!  No dog in the neighborhood will have anything to do with you.”

“I have to, Tyrion.  She’d do it for me.”

“A bad dog action for a good dog reason.” Selmy mused.  “Such an act should command respect.  We can be sure everyone knows why he did it.  We’ll make sure no one thinks less of him for it.”

All three dogs turned as they heard paws scampering towards them.  A small Yorkie was panting as he ran a few steps, panted some more and then ran again.

“Do any … of you know… where Ser Goldenpaws … lives?” the Yorkie asked between frantic breaths.

“Ser Goldenpaws is my registered name,” Jaime said impatiently.  “What do you want with me?  I have very important things I need to do.”

“Ser m’lady said … Oh, that … was longer than … I’ve run in months.  She said that you would help.  She needs help, Ser Goldenpaws.  She needs help bad!”

“Who is Ser m’lady?  I thought you said your female’s name was Wench?” Tyrion cocked his head in confusion.

“She doesn’t have a name.  I called her Wench because it fit her.”  Jaime leaned his head over the fence to look the panting little Yorkie in the eye.  “Your Ser m’lady.  Is she a big Golden with remarkably blue eyes?”

“Yes, that’s her.  She sent me here to get the food you promised, but, oh Ser, she’s in so much danger.”

Jaime backed up a few steps and jumped over the fence of his back garden. 

“I’ve already made up mind to save her.  I just have to find a dog catcher to take me to the pound.”

“She’s not at the pound, Ser Goldenpaws.  She’s at a much worse place.”  The Yorkie was finally catching his breath, but tremors still wracked his little body.

“Worse than the pound?”  Tyrion’s voice rose with his surprise.  “Where is she, then?  The Stranger’s Hell?”

“Worse than that.”  The Yorkie rounded on Tyrion aggressively.  “He hurts animals there.  Hurts them deliberately to see how they work, inside!  You pets don’t know.  You can’t understand.  Of all the dangers of being a street dog, this is the worst.”

“Tell me how to find her and I’ll save her.”  Jaime was ready to charge off into the evening, his muscles almost quivering with his righteous purpose.

“Now, hold on, boy.” Selmy stuck his muzzle right up into Jaime’s face.  “You can’t just go charging off without a plan.  This sounds more dangerous than letting yourself get taken by the dog catcher.”

“Selmy is right.  We need to know more about what kind of trouble your lady is in, so we can figure out how to help her.”  Tyrion sat down in front of the Yorkie.  “Start at the beginning.  What’s your name?”

“We don’t have time for this!” Jaime shouted.  “My Wench is in danger.”

“This won’t take nearly as long as you running off half-cocked would.”  Selmy’s slow, deep voice worked on soothing Jaime’s nerves.

“Heh, ‘half-cocked,’” Tyrion chuckled under his breath.  Jaime and the other dogs all glared at him.

“Yes, that was inappropriate.  I apologize.  Let’s move forward.  Tell us your tale, boy.  Quickly before my friend explodes.”

“My name is Podrick.  Ser m’lady helped me when my humans lost me when they moved away.  I got captured by a very bad boy human and he sold me to the bad Qyburn man.”

“Qyburn!  He keeps trying to buy me from LittleBird and GrumpyDear,” Jaime exclaimed.

“Don’t let him, Ser Goldenpaws!  He’s bad, maybe the baddest human ever!”  Podrick shook all over.

“Don’t get sidetracked, Podrick.  Tell us what is happening to Jaime’s Wench.”

“Who is Jaime?”

“I’m Jaime!  Ser Goldenpaws is just my fancy pet name.”  He didn’t have time for all this.  His Wench needed help!

“Qyburn bought Ser m’lady when the dog catcher got her.  He needs a strong female.  All the other ones were too weak and died.  The Monster killed them, after.”

“What is The Monster?  Is it Qyburn?  After what?  Don’t skip the details, Podrick.  We need them to save Jaime’s lady.”  Selmy’s voice was strained.

Podrick panted a few times.  “The Monster is a dog, a huge, mean, fighting dog.  He’s crazy and violent.  They can’t control him anymore.  He likes hurting other dogs and humans, too.  His owners want Qyburn to breed him.  Then they’ll keep the pups and put The Monster down.  But he is crazy, not stupid.  He kills the females after he breeds with them, so there won’t be any puppies.  Qyburn is going to breed Ser m’lady to him.”

“Oh, hells no!  That is not going to happen!  Where is this place, Podrick?  Can you lead us there?”

Podrick shook some more and a little pee hit the pavement.

“He’s worn out from his escape, Jaime.  He’ll only slow us down.”  Selmy said.

“Us?”  Jaime asked.

“I’m not going to let you go alone to rescue your fair maiden.  I can backtrack his trail by scent.  We can move faster with our longer legs.”

“You’re right.”  Tyrion looked downcast.  “There are times when having a terrier’s body is a disadvantage.  I couldn’t keep up with you, either.  But what will you do when you get there?”

“Ser m’lady pulled one of the boards loose to let some of us escape, but she couldn’t fit through the space.  If you can pull down another one, maybe dig a little in the dirt outside, she might be able to wriggle through.”

Hoping they had the beginnings of a plan, Jaime and Selmy ran off down the street to rescue Jaime’s Wench.

 

 


	8. Hear Us Growl (Warrior Pt. 2)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There's a wench to be saved, whether she wants him to or not.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this isn't the last chapter after all. It just kept growing. The finale should be up in a couple of hours.

 Chapter Eight

Hear Us Growl (Warrior Pt.2)

 

The Yorkie had been laying on the sidewalk, panting, recovering from his frantic run.  Jaime and Selmy had disappeared from sight a while ago.  Tyrion had watched them go with a bit of sadness in his heart.  Terriers were not made for situations where swift action and brute force were called for.  He was not cut out for the hero’s role.  He was a lover, not a fighter. 

“Let’s go into the yard,” Tyrion said gently to Podrick.  “Jaime has a water bowl in there.  You look like you could use a drink.”

“Thank you,”  Podrick said.

Tyrion led the little fellow (it wasn’t often he got to refer to another dog as little) to the far corner of the yard.  They moved very slowly in deference to Podrick’s sore paws.  They were almost to the hole that the dogs had dug under the fence to allow Tyrion to come and go as he pleased when trouble appeared on the horizon.

The mean boy, Ramsay had jumped over the fence on a neighboring yard and was moving quickly down the street.  The woman Jaime called TheGorgon had slipped unnoticed into the garden to meet him.

“Run, Podrick!” Tyrion cried and led the way into the now much less reliable safety of Jaime’s back garden.

“You owe me, missus,” Ramsay said in his mean voice, with his mean look on his face.

“I don’t owe you anything, you stupid boy,” TheGorgon whispered harshly.  “You were supposed to get rid of that horrible beast permanently.  Instead, he comes prancing right back here, not even a week later.  I should be dunning _you_ to return the money I already paid.”

“Money!” Tyrion exclaimed.  “That boy didn’t take Jaime randomly.  TheGorgon paid him.  Why didn’t Jaime tell us that?”

“The mean boy steals pets all the time.  He was supposed to bring Qyburn someone special a little while ago.  Qyburn was really angry when he failed.”

“And I’ll bet a dog biscuit that was supposed to be Jaime!  Qyburn has been trying to buy him for months.  He must have gotten tired of being told no and decided to have him stolen.  Damn it, Jaime!  He’s walking into danger and he doesn’t even know it.”  Tyrion bounced several times in his distress, breaking out of the cover of the shadows.

The mean boy grabbed Tyrion’s sturdy tail and lifted the Scottie in the air.

“What have we here?  Maybe I’ll take this little guy as my payment, missus.  Another dog disappears from this street, folks may start asking who’s new here and what do they know about it.”

Tyrion twisted and barked frantically.  Podrick rushed out from the underbrush and attacked the mean boy’s ankle.

“Let me down, damn you!”  Tyrion cried.  “Podrick go to the door of the house and bark.  LittleBird or GrumpyDear may hear you and come to help me.”

Podrick did as he was told.

“Stop it, you stupid boy.  Put him down.”  TheGorgon shouted.  “You’ll bring the whole neighborhood down on us.”

The door to the house swung open and GrumpyDear stuck his head out.  “What’s all the racket out here?”  He looked down at Podrick and then up at Tyrion dangling in the air from the mean boy’s hand.

“What are you doing, Ramsay?  Put that dog down.  He doesn’t belong to you.”

GrumpyDear crossed the yard in a few long strides to stand before the mean boy.  He reached out and took Tyrion from the boy’s grasp.  Tyrion nestled in the crook of GrumpyDear’s strong arm and whined in relief.

As the mean boy started to try to slip away, GrumpyDear grasped his collar with the hand that wasn’t holding Tyrion against his chest.  He shook the boy once and growled almost as effectively as a dog, “Speak up, boy.”

Ramsay trembled as he faced GrumpyDear’s hard stare.  Tyrion could smell the stink of fear begin to waft from the mean boy.

“She owes me!” The mean boy blurted out.

GrumpyDear’s eyes turned to TheGorgon.

“I don’t know what he could mean!” She blurted out.  “I’ve never seen this boy before in my life.”

Tyrion barked frantically at her, trying to convey to GrumpyDear that she was obviously lying.

GrumpyDear wasn’t as thick as Tyrion had always suspected.

“You’ve been to his house for tea with his father and stepmother three times this month, Mrs. Stark.  I can’t believe you were never introduced to Roose Bolton’s son.  Now, what is going on here?”

LittleBird appeared on the doorstep, peering out into the yard.

“I can’t think with all this noise, these horrible dogs.”  TheGorgon whimpered.  “How dare you speak to me so unkindly, Sandor.  Sansa, do you see how he treats me?”  TheGrogon pressed a handkerchief to her completely dry eyes.

LittleBird hurried down to join them in the yard, Podrick at her heels.

“Just stop, Mother.  You’ve had your way long enough.  Tell us the truth.  What does Ramsay mean?  Why is he even in our yard?  And where is Ser Goldenpaws?”

“I don’t know where that awful … that _dog_ is, Sansa.  I came out here and he was gone.  How can you care more about that animal than you care about me?”

Tyrion saw LittleBird lean towards TheGorgon, her whole aspect softening.

“Liar!” The mean boy cried out.  “Liar!  She paid me to get rid of your stupid dog.  But she only gave me half.”

“What?”  LittleBird looked frantically between the boy’s panicked face and TheGorgon’s pursed lips and tear-free eyes.  LittleBird’s spine stiffened. “Why would you do that, Mother?  We love Ser Goldenpaws.  He’s part of the family.”

“He’s a dog, Sansa.  A dirty, smelly, disgusting dog!” TheGorgon shouted at LittleBird. “He’s keeping you tied here, to this barbarous town in this savage Western backwater.  If you could just get free of him, you could move home with my granddaughter and we could raise her together, the right way.”

“What in the name of the Seven are you talking about, Mother?  How am I tied here by Ser Goldenpaws?”

“She doesn’t mean Jaime, Sansa.  She’s talking about me.” GrumpyDear said in a voice that echoed through Tyrion’s chest.

“It worked for Loras!  He told me all about it at Highgarden.  He got rid of Renly’s dog and then Renly was willing to move away.”  TheGorgon tried to take LittleBird’s hand, but she pulled away.

“And what was your plan for Sandor, Mother?  How were you going to get rid of him?”

TheGorgon’s eyes darted right and left as her mouth opened and closed without any sound coming out.

“I found a half-empty bottle of whiskey hidden in my workroom this morning, Sansa.  I expect she wanted you to think I’d taken to drink again, that you and Edie aren’t safe with me.”  Tyrion could feel GrumpyDear shaking with anger.  “Was that your plan, Mrs. Stark?”

LittleBird gasped and turned wounded eyes on TheGorgon.

This was all very interesting and Tyrion would recounting it to the neighborhood gossips for weeks.  But it didn’t solve the issue of the mean boy and Jaime.  Tyrion growled and snapped at the boy, just to bring the attention of the humans back to the problems at hand.

“Stop that, Tyrion.  You’re better trained than that.” GrumpyDear said.  “All right, you,” he gave the mean boy a good shake, “what’s your part in all this?”

“I was just supposed to get rid of the dog.” The boy whined.  “I didn’t have nothing to do with any scheme against you, Mr. Clegane.”

GrumpyDear’s eyes were hard as stone.  “You better not have.  Now, what did she want you to do with the dog?”

“I was to take in out into the woods and get rid of it like I was told to get rid of Mr. Baratheon’s dog.  But Mr. Qyburn was willing to pay me good money for your fancy mutt, so I was just going to have a little fun with it before I took it to the barn.”

Several things happened at once.

Podrick started barking and pulling at the hem of LittleBird’s dress.  GrumpyDear cursed up a storm.  And TheGorgon started hitting the mean boy’s head and arm.

“You were going to sell that beast!” Smack!  “I paid you.  I gave you good money to get rid of it!” Slap!  “You disobeyed my orders and you still want me to pay you the rest?” Punch!

“Stop it, Mother!”  LittleBird gripped TheGorgon’s arm. “Go back into the house.  I’ll deal with you later.”

“Sansa, how dare you take that tone with me!  I’m your mother.”

“And that is the only reason I’m not throwing you out on the street.  Go into the house.”  LittleBird turned her back on TheGorgon.

“Now, Ramsay, what has happened to our dog?”  LittleBird’s voice was cold as the winter wind.

“I don’t know!” The mean boy cried.  “I didn’t take him.”

GrumpyDear gave him another shake.  “What _do_ you know?  Tell us about Qyburn.”

“He does experiments on dogs, other animals too, but he really likes dogs.  He keeps a lot of them in his barn.”

“What does he want with Ser Goldenpaws?”  LittleBird asked, her voice harsh and urgent.

“He wants to breed the perfect dog.  He thinks that stupid mutt … your dog will be the right sire.  Mr. Qyburn was angry when I didn’t get him.  He told me that I was unreliable and he wouldn’t pay me no more.  I lost that job because of your stupid mutt.”

“Did you see where our dog went tonight?”

“No, he was gone when I got here.  He growls at me every time he sees me.  I couldn’t come into the yard when he was here.  I even couldn’t talk to the missus.  But Mr. Qyburn has other people who bring him animals, too.  One of them must have got your stupid mutt.  He was willing to pay enough for him to tempt anybody.”

GrumpyDear gave the boy one last shake and then let him go.  The mean boy fell to the ground.  Tyrion and Podrick both growled at him as he lay there.

“Off with you, boy.  I’ll be speaking to your father about this soon.  And if I ever see you with another animal, not even the gods will be able to protect you.”

The mean boy got to his feet and ran off as though his tail was on fire.

GrumpyDear finally put Tyrion back down on the ground and ran a calming hand over his ears.  “Go into the kitchen, boy.  We’ll telephone your owner to come and get you.  I don’t want you wandering by yourself tonight.”

_Jaime has quality humans._

“What are we going to do, Sandor?  We only just got Ser Goldenpaws back?”  LittleBird sniffled a bit as she touched GrumpyDear’s arm.

“I’ll go out to Qyburn’s place and see what’s what.  If he has Jaime, I’ll bring our boy home.”

“It sounds like Mr. Qyburn might be dangerous.”  LittleBird kept her tight hold on GrumpyDear.

“He’s a small, weak, old man, Little Bird.  But if it makes you feel better, call the constables if I’m not back in an hour.”

“ _He_ may be weak, but there could be others with him.  I have a bad feeling about this, Sandor.  Please, for my sake, take your rifle.  I don’t want to lose you because you were overconfident, the way we lost Father.”

GrumpyDear heaved a heavy sigh.  Then Tyrion saw him look deeply into LittleBird’s eyes.  “Very well.  We’ll err on the side of caution.  I’ll get even Thoros and some of the fellas to come with me.  But I’m going to feel very foolish standing over that old man with a gun in my hands and a posse at my heels.”

GrumpyDear went into his shed for a moment and came out carrying one of the long iron sticks that the humans used for hunting.  That was good.  He could help Jaime and Selmy rescue Jaime’s lady.

GrumpyDear gave LittleBird a long kiss.  Tyrion was quite impressed with the way he was able to use his feeble, human tongue.  Jaime’s humans made very interesting subjects for observation.

“Do you want to wait to deal with your mother until we can confront her together?” GrumpyDear asked after their kiss had ended.

“No, its best I handle it now before she manufactures some new excuse for what she said and did.  I’m through letting her manipulate me.  I’m a grown woman and I make my own decisions.  If she can’t accept my choices, then she can’t be part of our lives.  I’ll make sure she knows she’s worn out her welcome in our home, at least for a while.”

LittleBird stood with Tyrion and they watched GrumpyDear as he strode down the street in the same direction that Jaime and Selmy had headed.  Tyrion sat down on the cool grass and breathed a sigh of relief.  Podrick joined him.

“Who are you, sweetling?” LittleBird crouched down and rested a gentle hand on Podrick’s head.  “Have you made a new friend, Tyrion?”

“Yes,” Tyrion thought, smiling at Podrick as he wriggled with pleasure at LittleBird’s caress.  “Yes, I have.”

***

Selmy kept his nose to the ground the whole long way.  Jaime had never seen the bloodhound work and he was impressed.  Perhaps dogs could do more than win conformation shows and obedience trials and make their humans happy.

While Selmy was preoccupied following the scent of the little Yorkie who had brought them Wench’s plea for help, Jaime wracked his brain for a plan to save her.  How much could he do against a monster that loved to, _wanted_ to fight?  He hoped that he would be dog enough to save his Wench.

They crept up on the dark barn where the scent trail ended.  There were scrabbling noises from one side and a plank was missing.  Jaime stuck his nose in and sniffed around.  He caught an unmistakable scent.

“Wench?  Wench, are you there?”  He called out in a soft voice.

A muzzle poked through the gap about halfway down the side of the barn.

“Jai … Ser Goldenpaws?  What are you doing here?  Get away from here.  It’s dangerous!” 

Jaime ran until he reached Wench’s muzzle.  “I _know_ it’s dangerous.  I’m here to rescue you.  Your little friend told us you needed my help.”

“He wasn’t supposed to do that.”  Wench sounded exasperated.  “He was just supposed to get some food and go.  You shouldn’t be here.”

“What an ungrateful wench you are.  I’ve run all the way here to save your fur and you …”

“I didn’t ask for anything like that!”  Wench interrupted him.  “I have everything under control.  I don’t need some pampered pet to be my knight in a shiny golden coat.”

“Can you two stop it?”  Selmy sounded as if he was struggling against laughter.  “Have your lover’s quarrel later.  Let’s all save the day now.”

Wench turned her beautiful blue eyes on the bloodhound.  “I didn’t see you there, ser.  But you’re right.  We need to pull down this bottom board so the rest of the dogs on this side can escape.  I can’t get enough leverage on it just by pushing.”

“Maybe if we both pulled while you and the other dogs pushed, it might come loose.  What do you think, Jaime?”

“That might work since there are _so many_ dogs here who need rescuing.”  Jaime huffed.

“Are you sure you want to take a chance on breaking one of your perfect claws, Ser Goldenpaws?”  The Wench sassed back.

“Enough!”  Selmy shouted, his temper showing.  “Let’s get this done.  Jaime, you stay here and I’ll move down to the other side of that post.  When I give the signal, ma’am, you and all those other dogs push on the board from your side.”

It took several tries, but finally, the board came away and more dogs ran or limped or squirmed out through the widened gap.

“Selmy, get them away from here.”

“Lead them down the right-hand trail into the woods.  There are others waiting at the river where the trail ends.”  Wench added.

Selmy looked at Jaime and then at Wench.  There was something in his expression Jaime could not interpret.  Then Selmy nodded his head, long ears flopping.

“I’ll find them, Miss Wench, ma’am.  I’ll help them as much as I’m able.”  With that, he began to herd the freed dogs away from the barn.

Jaime thrust his head into the Wench’s kennel.  “Come on.  We have to get you out of here.”

“It’s still no good, Ser Goldenpaws.  I still won’t be able to fit.”  Wench said, dejection in her stance.  “You need to go.  Help the dogs that have escaped.  I’ll see if I can loosen another board to fit through.”

“No!  I’m not leaving you here.”  Jaime crouched down and began to wriggle his shoulders and push with his hind legs.  It was a very tight fit.  Several times he was afraid he was stuck.  But over Wench’s objections, he managed to worm his way through the gap into her enclosure.

“You’re right, Wench, you’d never make it through there.  Those strong shoulders and long legs would get hung up in a dozen places.”

“You’re bleeding.”  Wench said, looking stunned that he was standing in front of her.

“Yeah, I scraped myself up pretty good.  The ground is too hard to dig us out.”  Jaime looked at the next board up from the ground.  If they could break it loose there would be enough room for both of them to make an easy escape.  “Put your shoulder into it, Wench.” 

Wench still seemed in shock and didn’t move. 

“Ser Goldenpaws, _you’re bleeding_.”  She repeated.

“Jaime, Wench.  My name is Jaime.  Now, are you going to stand there all night?  Because if we get caught, it will definitely be a lot of fur off both our tails!”

They pushed and pushed at the third board, but could not make it budge. 

“It’s up too high.  The wood rot hasn’t reached it yet.”  Wench sank onto her haunches.  “We won’t be able to move it.  You need to go, Jaime.  You don’t know what’s going to happen here.”

“Yes, I do, Wench.  Your little friend explained it.  There is an evil, bad, monster dog coming and the smelly man is going try to make you …. make you do ... with him!  That’s not going to happen, Wench.  We’re going to get you out of here.  If we can’t do it this way, we’ll figure something else out.  If I have to fight that monster dog all by myself, I will!  Now stop whining and help me figure out a way to save us!”

Wench seemed about to answer him when noises came from one end of the barn.  Doors opened and a horrible smell poured out that made Jaime want to retch.

The smelly man, the one called Qyburn was pushing a large, wheeled cage out of the stinky room and into the kennel space.

The cage held the biggest dog Jaime had ever seen, even bigger than the biggest dogs at the dog shows.  This dog would dwarf him and even Wench if they stood side by side.

Qyburn looked around him.

“What have you done?”  He shouted.  “All my work!  How did you do this?  Bad dogs!”

Wench stood tall in her kennel, defiant.  Jaime moved to stand beside her.

“You!” Qyburn cried out, staring now at Jaime.  “How did you get here?”  Qyburn saw the missing boards from the side of his barn.  “You think you’re clever, don’t you?  You’ve ruined my experiments.  Months of work that would have helped countless animals in the future!  I had planned an easy time for both of you.  Now you’ll both pay for this.”

Qyburn pushed the cage of the big dog out of the way as he approached the gate to Wench’s kennel.

The big dog pressed against his cage, the metal flexing against his bulk.

“Mmmmm. I smell blood.”  The big dog said.  “That’s the best smell in the world.  Even better than you’ll smell in a few days, bitch.”

As Qyburn fumbled with the latch on Wench’s kennel, the big dog pushed harder against his cage.

“Down, Gregor, stop that!”  Qyburn commanded while he tore open the latch.  “Maybe I’ll lock the two of you in with him.  That would teach you a lesson.  But not until after I get what I want from you.”

The human stepped into the kennel.  Jaime tried to move in front of Wench, to protect her.  The stupid female kept trying to move in front of him instead.  They jostled each other as Qyburn stared at them from the opening of the kennel.

Jaime looked at Wench and she looked back at him.  As one they rushed Qyburn, jumping on him, knocking him down.  At the same moment, the big dog, Gregor pushed his cage over, the door breaking open as the hinges gave under his weight.

Gregor stretched out to his full height and width, shaking himself as though he was shaking off the bonds that had held him back.  He was massive, filling almost the entire aisle between the two rows of kennels.

The dogs that remained in the other row of kennels cringed back from the doors of their cages, whimpering in fear.  These dogs looked like they had already been injured.  They had bandages and missing limbs. 

There had been some war on dogs going on in Jaime’s town that nobody even knew about!

Gregor began walking towards Jaime and his Wench.  Qyburn had already pulled the door to Wench’s pen closed and was trying to latch it from the inside, to keep himself safe from the monster of a dog that was now free.  Qyburn kept up a stream of commands to Gregor, to Jaime and Wench.  None of them paid him any heed.  Jaime and Wench retreated down the aisle as Gregor stalked them.

“Thanks for distracting the human.”  Gregor’s voice was deep and rough.  “I’ve been planning my jailbreak for days.  I just needed the opportunity.”

“If you’re so grateful, how about you go sit over there and we’ll just be on our way.”  Jaime tossed out as he and Wench continued to retreat.

“But where would be the fun in that?”  Gregor bared his teeth as pause and his muscles began to bunch.

“What do we do, Wench?” Jaime asked.

“We fight.” Came her answer.

“You have more experience with this.  I’ll follow your lead.”  Jaime gave his Wench a look that he hoped conveyed his trust and faith in her.

Together they charged the monstrous dog, Wench going high and Jaime going low, aiming for his legs.  Somehow, instinctively, Jaime just knew that if he could rip through the back leg, the monster would fall, no matter how strong he was.

The fight might have lasted only a few minutes, though it felt like days.  Jaime felt one of the monster’s paws connect with his head and that was all he knew.

***

Brienne saw Jaime fall.  He was bleeding from several places where the Monster’s teeth had torn at him.  She kept trying to get her jaws around Gregor’s neck, but could not do it.  The Monster was too strong, too fast.  She was beginning to tire.  But she had to protect Jaime.  Her world had come down to that truth.

Qyburn continued to shout at them.  He was beyond words, it seemed.  All Brienne heard was noise. 

The front doors to the barn slammed open and a big human rushed in with other men coming behind him.

Gregor took advantage of her distraction to knock her to the floor.  Her belly was exposed.  It was only seconds before Gregor would rip her open and she would die without telling Jaime … 

“What’s going on here?”  the human yelled.

Why did the humans keep asking that question?  They knew they wouldn’t understand when dogs answered them.

Gregor’s head swung to the humans.  His deep, terrifying growl echoed through the barn.

“Gods damned, fucking people!  Always ruining my fun.”  Gregor took two steps toward the man.

“He’s insane!”  Qyburn cried.  “Shoot him, Mr. Clegane!  Shoot him.”

At Qyburn’s shout, Gregor began to rush the humans as Brienne lay stunned on the floor.

Two shots rang out.  Gregor staggered but did not fall.

“Fuck,” the human cried.  “Go down, you bastard!”  And he shot again.

Gregor dropped like a stone when the bullet tore through his jaw and into his skull.

Brienne pulled herself up and limped over to Jaime.  She prodded him with her muzzle but he did not open his eyes.

“Don’t be dead.  Please don’t be dead.”

The tall man with the gun approached.  She tried to stand to protect Jaime at all costs, but she was still weak and dazed.  She could at least growl at the approaching human.

“Down, girl.”  His voice was deep and reassuring.  “I’m not going to hurt you or him.  Let me take a look at him, see what’s wrong.”

Crimson blood marred Jaime’s perfect golden coat.  A deep wound ran along the right side of his head where Gregor’s paw had made contact.

Another human came and crouched by them.

“He’s alive?”  The red-haired human asked.

“Yeah, Thoros.  But knocked unconscious.  Some other wounds as well.”

“I can look at him for you, Mr. Clegane.”  Qyburn volunteered, still latched in Brienne’s kennel.

She raised her head and growled deeply at him.  The human’s voice was almost like a dog’s growl as well.

“Like hells, you will.  You stay in that cage until the constable can come and sort all this out.”

Another man opened the doors at the back of the barn.  The horrible smell poured out into the tense atmosphere of the barn.  The man who opened the door made a high pitched sound and slammed the doors shut again before he bent over and vomited.

“Yeah, you stay in that cage, Qyburn.”

One of the men brought over the cart that had carried Brienne into the barn days ago.

“This was all I could find, Sandor.  You can use it to carry your dog home.  One of us can go for the doc and have him meet you.”

“Things need to be done here.” The one they called Sandor protested.

Why was he hesitating?  Couldn’t he see that Jaime needed help?  Brienne barked sharply at the man.

“All right, girl, we’ll take care of Jaime and they’ll take care of all the rest.”

Several of the men gently lifted Jaime into the cart.  He whined a bit as they moved him and Brienne whined as well in sympathy.

The man, Sandor, began to push Jaime down the aisle towards the doors.  He turned and looked at her.

“You comin’?”

***

Jaime’s world was almost completely composed of pain.  His head rang and pounded with every move as GrumpyDear lifted him onto the table in the kitchen of their home.  He tried to be strong, but whimpers fell from his throat as someone arranged his legs and laid him on his side.

Wench came and put her head on the table right next to his.  He could breathe in her wonderful scent and gazed into her beautiful eyes before his own lids became too heavy for him to hold open.

It hurt, oh it hurt when he heard TheGorgon screeching, “What are you thinking, Sansa?  Our dinner is prepared on that table!  How many of these mangy mutts are you going to bring into this house?”

“Be quiet, Mother!”  LittleBird whispered, running her fingers over Jaime’s side. 

Good for LittleBird.  She sounded like her old self again, felt like it too.

“Go upstairs and stay with Evie, Mother.  She may wake up with all this noise and I don’t want her to be alone.”

“Very well,” TheGorgon’s shrill voice receded as footsteps walked away.  “I’ll be with my granddaughter.”

“Edric went to fetch Maester Tarly.  He should be here right quick, LittleBird.  Let’s see if we can get some of these scrapes cleaned up.  But save that head wound for the doc.”

Jaime faded in and out as his humans gently cleaned the blood from his fur and felt along his bones.

“Nothing broken.  But some of these bites will need more cleaning than we can do, maybe some stitches as well.”  GrumpyDear’s hands were as gentle as Jaime could ever remember them, even when he was a pup.

Jaime felt more than saw LittleBird crouch down next to his Wench. 

“Who are you?  It’s our night to meet new friends, it seems.”

Jaime heard LittleBird take a surprised gasp.

“Your ear!  Oh, sweetling, are you Renly’s girl?  Are you Sapphire Queen Brienne?”

The Wench made a little huffing noise.

_Brienne.  I like it._

Before Jaime could make any comment, Maester Sam bustled in.

“I heard there’s a big to do tonight, Mr. Clegane.  My father caught called out to Mr. Qyburn’s barn with the constables and the other magistrate.  But Ed Dayne said I was needed here.”

Jaime felt Sam’s chubby, but strong hands on his head.

“Oh, dear, oh dear.  This laceration will need stitching and I’m afraid it will scar.  Ser Goldenpaws’ eyes look alright.  I don’t think there’s any pressure on his brain.  But I want to put him under, just to keep him still while I stitch and examine his other wounds.”

“Brienne will need to be looked at as well, Sam.”  GrumpyDear pointed out.

“Brienne!  How did you find her?  I haven’t seen her in over a year.  Yes, yes, my girl, we’ll have a look at you just as soon as we’ve gotten this fella squared away.”

Jaime felt a cloth cover his muzzle.  He knew it smelled very funny.  And then he didn’t know anything at all for a long time.

When he woke up, his wench, Brienne, was gone.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, Sandor got to take out Gregor. I hope you enjoyed this very short and weird version of CleganeBowl.


	9. Close Your Eyes, You Shall Not Fall (The Seven)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Can Jaime convince his wench that she can have a home?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Notes: DOUBLE POST TODAY.  If you have not read Chapter 8, go back.
> 
> Here is the final chapter, not quite a month late.  Way better for me, the person finished a Christmas fic in March.
> 
> A big thank you to everyone who came on this weird journey with me.  I still don’t know where this came from, but I hope you enjoyed the ride.
> 
>  

 Chapter Nine

Close Your Eyes, You Shall Not Fall (The Seven)

 

Brienne lay in her secret spot, lethargic, all alone, with only herself to depend upon.  For the first three days after she had slunk away from Jaime like a thief in the night, she’d told herself that she had made the right decision.  Even though his humans had been kind to her, she overheard them talking after the Sam man had put soothing ointment on her wounds and bandaged them gently.

“Should we let Renly know that she’s been found?”  The female, LittleBird asked her male.

“To do what?  Take her to Essos and abandon her again in some desert?  Fuck Renly!” The male, GrumpyDear had declared. 

“Sandor!  Language!”

“Sorry, Little Bird, sorry.  But it chaps my … sides.  He let that curly-haired boy of his convince him to leave that good, brave girl lost on the streets and he went off without a care.”

“You know that’s not entirely true, my grumpy dear.  Renly came back to search for her several times in the first months.”

“Yes, he walked around the neighborhood for a bit, before meeting his friends for lunches and dinners and trips to the theater.  You heard Maester Sam.  Renly had already talked to him about finding her a new owner with ‘a yard where she won’t be so hemmed in’ instead of his keeping her in his fancy flat.  Someone like that doesn’t deserve …”

Brienne stopped listening then.  Jaime was still sleeping off the medicine the Sam man had given him.  She went and stood over him for a moment then leaned down to nuzzle her nose against his neck, breathing deeply of his scent. 

She thought she heard him sigh her name, her real name, but that might have been wishful thinking.  Then she quietly maneuvered through the small dog door into the back garden and walked slowly off into the night.

She had gone to watch what was going on at Qyburn’s barn from a distance.  The Sam man appeared with others to take care of the dogs that Qyburn had abused.  Perhaps it would be all right for the dogs she had helped free to return as well.  They at least deserved the choice.

She followed the trail into the woods.  She was greeted with cheers until they realized that she had not brought any food.  She told the dogs all that had happened and laid out their choices.  Many of these dogs had come from the streets and to the streets they wished to return.  Others decided to take their chances with the men who came to the barn, hoping that they might be reunited somehow with the humans they had been stolen from.  As she watched the little group disperse to their various chosen fates, she hoped that what she had done for them was enough.

When Brienne was sure that she was alone, she made her way to her hidden cave.

On her fourth day hiding in her cave, she took her old leash, her collar and license out into the woods and buried them.  She would not hold onto the dream of that old life anymore.  Since then she had tried to plan a future for herself, but she could not see past the empty place she had not even been aware of a fortnight ago.

Brienne had stirred herself during the afternoon to take a bit of food and water.  Then she had laid down and dozed again, with her sleep disturbed by dreams and nightmares.  She thought she was still in one of her dreams when she heard the jingling, the music of a dog license dangling from a collar.  She stood slowly, hoping that she would not be facing a fight with a strange dog that had somehow tracked her here.

“There you are, Wench!  Five days I waited for you to come home.  Finally I said, Jaime, I said, that silly female had run off _again_ without me.  I better go see what kind of trouble she’s managed to get into this time.”

“Jaime?”  Brienne shook her head to try to clear the dream image from her vision.

“Of course it’s Jaime, you ridiculous wench.  Who else would it be?  Who else would be stupid enough to follow you all the way out here into the forest when he’s barely out of his sick bed?  Who else would put himself in mortal danger for you, _again_ , and probably never receive any thanks this time either.”

“The only mortal danger we’re in now is being crushed when your massive vanity fills up the cave.” 

Why had Brienne been missing him?

Jaime smirked at her for a moment, but then a grimace crossed his face.  He turned and she could see the stitches in the wound on his head.  Jaime seemed to waver for a moment before he found his balance again.  She felt her heart clench to see the perfection of his coat marred.

“Sit down, you idiot!  What were you thinking, walking all the way out here?  You almost died when TheMonster … when TheMonster …”. Brienne couldn’t finish her sentence over the lump that had formed in her throat.

Jaime laid down a bit gingerly.  “I was thinking I needed to find where my damn wench had gone off to without me.  I woke up expecting you to be right by my side and there was nothing but a big empty space where you were supposed to be, Brienne.  GrumpyDear and LittleBird are beside themselves.  They’ve spent every spare minute out searching the town for you.  Selmy tracked your scent for me to the woods, so I knew where you’d gone, but I couldn’t get over the fence at first.”

“You jumped the fence!  Are you crazy?  You could have hurt yourself even worse.”

“I’d do it again.  I’d do it all again a thousand times to bring you home.  GrumpyDear and LittleBird want you.  MaidenPup would want you if she could do more than eat and sleep and cry.  Tyrion and Selmy want to get to know you.  Podrick is living at Tyrion’s house and he misses you.  He wanted to come with me, but I told him he’d never be able to keep up and to count on me to bring you home.”

“All of them want me, those dogs and those humans?”  Brienne asked, a break in her voice like it was too much to take in.

“They do.  But not as much as I want you, Wench.  If you aren’t there to keep me in line, who’s to say what may happen to me.  If I’m not here to keep you in line, who’s to say what may happen to you.”  Jaime looked at her with his big, soulful eyes, the ones that got him full points for fulfilling the breed standards for a Golden.  “We’ll keep each other safe, and our family and our friends.  That’s what mates do for each other.”

“I’m afraid, Jaime.  What if it all goes away again?  I’m ugly and I’m huge and I’m awkward.  What if I’m not good enough?”

“Did you look at my humans?  GrumpyDear is big and gruff and not at all handsome.  But LittleBird loves him and thinks he’s the most wonderful male in the world.  I’m like LittleBird.  You’re the most beautiful dog in the world to me, Brienne.  Because you have the most beautiful eyes and the most beautiful heart.  It will never go away because real love doesn’t.”

Brienne collapsed down onto the cave floor next to him.  They nuzzled one another gently, then Jaime gave a huge yawn.

“That walk wore me out, Wench.  Let me take a little nap.  We’ll go home in the morning.”

Brienne wrapped body around Jaime’s protectively.  Maybe being so huge wasn’t such a bad thing after all, if she could keep her mate warm and safe from harm while he slept.

***

She’d been kept waiting forever!  The indignity!  Where was this human that was supposed to meet her train? 

Light of the West barked sharply, trying to catch the attention of the two humans idling on the train platform.

One of them came over and crouched down at her crate.

“No one’s come to pick this dog up, Jos?”

“Nope, Lew.  Mr. Qyburn was supposed to be by hours ago.  He’s usually real prompt.”

Light of the West perked up her ears.  These humans sounded stupid, but they might have information about her new human.

“Haven’t you heard about the trouble out at his place?”

“Haven’t heard a thing, Lew.  Been working the freight cars the last few days.”

“Big hullabaloo.  They found out he was cuttin’ up animals like some mad doctor from a story.  Had dogs, and cattle and even a horse.  All of them stolen.  They tarred and feathered Old Qyburn and put him at the crossroad in nothing but his drawers.  Judge Tarly told him if he ever came back he’d hang for a horse thief.”

“Always thought there was somethin’ funny about that feller.  He never seemed quite right.”

One of the humans reached into her crate.  Light of the West had learned the hard way not to snap at the humans who tried to pet her.

“Don’t you worry now, girly.  There’s a family somewhere needs a pretty pet like you for their kiddies.”

No, Light of the West thought, not more children!

The two men were approached by a worn out looking woman with long red hair.

“Did you say that no one is going to claim this dog?”

“That’s right, missus.  Man that bought her is long gone now.”

“So if I gave you, say, five dollars, you could put a new label on the crate and load her onto the train for the Riverlands.”

“We could surely do that, missus, for five dollars _each._ ”

“Highway robbery!  No mangy … dog could possibly be worth ten dollars.  I’ll give you seven and that’s my final offer.”

“Done, missus.  Where do you want her sent?”

“She’ll come with me to Riverrun.  That’s Mrs. Eddard Stark, care of Mr. Edmure Tully.”

Light of the West couldn’t believe what was happening to her _again_!  Another trip into the unknown.  Another unworthy human undeserving of her magnificence.

The red-haired woman bent down and looked at her.  The woman’s eyes were haughty and cold.  Perhaps this was someone who could appreciate the value of a dog of Light of the West’s quality.

“If I’m ever going to get to spend time with my granddaughter again, I’m going to have to get used to you horrible beasts.”  The woman bit out, as though the words being torn from her throat.  “You’ll behave yourself if you know what’s good for you.”

Light of the West cowered for a moment from the anger and vindictiveness in the woman’s voice.

“Well, if this doesn’t work out, Edmure’s children may appreciate a pet.”

NO!  Not more children!

***

It had been four weeks since Jaime had returned home with his wench in tow.  He’d been so proud of how his humans welcomed her and made her feel cherished.  They did almost a good a job of that as he had done himself.

Today was his final visit from Maester Sam.  He laid patiently on the kitchen table while Sam examined him.

Brienne was lying in the best spot in the kitchen, watching over the little wooden pen that held MaidenPup while GrumpyDear and LittleBird listened to what the maester had to say.

“The wounds have healed well,”  Sam said, running a gentle hand over Jaime’s head.  “The scarring was inevitable, I’m afraid.  You won’t be able to show him anymore.  That is a pity.  Ser Goldenpaws was quite a marvel in the ring, but I’m sure you’re grateful to have him healthy and whole.”

“He isn’t really Ser Goldenpaws anymore,”  LittleBird said.  “We only call him Jaime now.  It seems to suit him better.”

“Now that he doesn’t have to be pampered for the judges, I’m thinking of starting to hunt with him.  Between him and Brienne, I’ll have some fine companions to keep me company when I’m out after ducks.”

“That’s a fine idea, Mr. Clegane.  Always better for dogs to do the work they were bred for.  They are called Retrievers for a reason.”

“While you’re here, Sam, would you take a look at Brienne?  She’s been a little off her feed lately and a bit sluggish.”  LittleBird asked.  Jaime popped up on the table.  He had noticed his wench had been out of sorts, more so than usual, but she insisted it was nothing.

“Since there was so much time that Brienne wasn’t receiving proper care, I worry about her.”  LittleBird was such a sweet human.

“Let’s have a look at you, girl.”  Maester Sam crouched laboriously on the floor and looked Brienne over closely. 

Jaime jumped down and came to stand next to her.

Sam gave a little smile and sent Jaime a wink.  Then he ran his hand all over Brienne’s abdomen, which had been looking a bit bloated lately, now that Jaime thought on it.

“Five, six, seven.”  Sam counted quietly.  “Aren’t you just a fine lass?”

Sam stood up and faced GrumpyDear and LittleBird.  “Nothing at all to worry about.  Brienne is going to have puppies.”

Jaime flopped down on the floor in shock.  Puppies!  He’d never considered such a thing. 

He looked accusingly at Brienne. 

“You told me you were fine.”

“I am fine, idiot.  It’s the most natural thing in the world.”

“But I don’t know how to be a father,”  Jaime whined.

“And I don’t know how to be a mother,”  Brienne replied.  “But our humans are raising a fine pup.  They’ll help.  And Podrick and Selmy and Tyrion.  And we both know, Jaime, there’s absolutely nothing we can’t do, if we do it together.”

 


End file.
